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Updated: July 6, 2025
Here, I had my wash, but I must go now and have another while you keep guard over me. Think of it! While you keep guard over me, boy! No, I won't call you boy no more, for I have made you a fighting man, and here's been the proof of it this morning. There's only one thing wanted to make all this complete. Boy! Tchah! I can't call you a boy: you are a young Roman warrior."
"I think you behaved very bravely, Dexter," said Helen warmly; "and as I've scolded you sometimes, it is only fair that when I can I ought to praise. You were very brave indeed." "Tchah! that isn't being brave," said the boy, whose face was scarlet. "Why, anybody could scare a few bullocks." "Yes, but anybody would not," said Helen, smiling. "There, let's make haste home.
"Mebbe, but I wouldn't go by my own opinion if it was my trade instead of yourn." "But look here," cried Uncle Paul, "I should like you to see the vessel and act for me." "Tchah! Not likely, squire. What do you know about me?" "Well, not much, certainly," said Uncle Paul, "and I should want a character with you as to your being a good seaman."
Let's get up to-morrow morning and have a bathe. I'll swim you across there and back." "Tchah! I say, Frank, what a little savage you are!" "Didn't know there was anything savage in being fond of swimming." "Well, I did. A man isn't a fish." "No," said Frank, laughing; "he's flesh."
There's quite a rough bit, and if we couldn't climb it, I'm not here." "But what about your shoulder?" "I'll climb it with one hand, Mas' Don, or know the reason why." "But the men on sentry?" "Tchah! They think we're all too done up and cowardly to try to get away. I've been thinking it all over, and if you're the same mind as me, off we go to-night."
"Tchah!" ejaculated the plumber; and I knelt down once more to look for the danger, but could see nothing but the dark whispering hole, with, at a great depth below, the round disc of light representing the mouth of the well. Just then something passed my head and fell down with, after a while, a strange hollow plash from below. "That'll do," said Mr Solomon angrily. "No more of that, please."
The old fellows were all killed when the Danes came up the river in their boats and burned the place." "Well, father and I aren't Danes, and we didn't kill them. What stuff!" "No, but it's not nice all the same to live in a place where lots of people were murdered." "Tchah! who cares! I don't. It's a capital old place, and you never dig anywhere without finding something."
"Can't be much danger," he said, half contemptuously, "or these here wouldn't take it so coolly." "But it looks as if there was going to be a desperate fight." "Tchah! Not that, Mas' Don." "But look at that scout who ran in. He was hurt." "So is a boy who has had his head punched, and whose nose bleeds. There won't be no real fighting, my lad. I mean men being killed, and that sort o' thing."
"Not such a good life for a boy in winter when things are bare, as in summer when the flowers are out and the fruit comes on. Like fruit, don't you?" "Yes, sir, but you don't let your boys eat the fruit." "Tchah! I should never miss what you would eat," he said with a laugh, "and you would soon get tired of the apples and pears and gooseberries. Think you'd like to come, eh-em?
Don't waste time. Say you don't know." "But I think I do know, uncle," cried the boy. "Eh? What? Where? Tchah! Not you!" "But what about one of those boats the French prisoners escaped in?" cried Rodd eagerly. "Eh? What? One of those trim orange boats that go on the Mediterranean Trade, that they build at Salcombe?" "Yes, uncle.
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