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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Here now comes de hand, at last of de time, Johan," cried the old man. "It vill be that all can vel be done now. And it is goot that he is from mine own country. He cannot English speak, many vords; but dat is nothing; he can vork. I tolt you dere vould be mans come!" John looked scrutinizingly at the newcomer. The man's eyes fell. "What is your name?" said John. "Wilhelm Rütter," he answered.
"Very well," he said, "if those are your instructions, I'll do my best. And so you sent for me at once, as soon as you discovered the loss?" "Yes, at once." "Without telling anybody else?" "I haf tolt nobody." "Did you look about anywhere for Denson in the street, or what not?" "No what was the good? He was gone; there was time for him to go miles." "Very good.
I coult have tolt you who hast your own tucks and venison." "I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart; but we were hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know a body must provide well for company." "Yaas, yaas; I understants it, and knows how you moost have peen nonplush't to do sich a t'ing; put it was mo-o-st too pat.
"It is fery curious and amusing, yes: but I am afraid the Prince may be annoyt. He acted wiz his usual decision always he acts wiz wonterful decision. Like Napoleon. Directly he was tolt of your descent into the camp at Dornhof, he said, 'Pring him! pring him! It is my schtar! His schtar of Destiny! You see? He will be dthwarted. He directed you to come as Herr Pooterage, and you haf not done so.
"Mister Peale, he tolt me, I must gall him mit der telephone, but der nomber she vas gone oudt of mine head!" He blinked at her with his short-sighted eyes and laid a big hairy hand on the gate. "You must you mustn't come in," she said breathlessly. "I will call Mr. Beale sit sit down again." "Sch," he said obediently, and shuffled back to his chair, "dell him der Herr Brofessor it was."
Brop'ly leffing ad you mit anoder voomans! Vot for dit he nefer tolt you vere he lif? So you voultn't ketch him; dod's der reason! You're a pooty vun, you are! Runnin' efter a doity Dago mens! Bei Gott! you bedder git oop und back your glo'es, und stob dod gryin'. I'm goin' to mofe owid to-morrow; und you kin go verefer you blease. I ain'd goin' to sday anoder day in sitch a neighbourhoot.
"You know the Kellers?" "Oh! ver' well." "Francois Keller is the Comte de Gondreville's son-in-law, and the Comte de Gondreville and his son-in-law dined with you yesterday." "Who der teufel tolt you dat?" cried the Baron. "Dat vill be Georche; he is always a gossip." Peyrade smiled, and the banker at once formed strange suspicions of his man-servant.
Then one morning he tolt me he were aiming to peel them 'ere ingun-skins off my eyes, and for me to have no fears, but trust in him; that he believed them eye-nerves, shet back thar in the dark, was still alive and able to do business. And though my heart shuck like a ager, I laid down on that table same as a soldier. When I got up, I were blind as ever, with rags tied thick around my eyes.
He's been huntin' 'em everywhar." Aunt Ri grasped the situation instantly. Wiping her streaming eyes, she sobbed out: "Wall, I'll allow, arter this, thar is sech a thing ez a Providence, ez they call it. 'Pears like ther couldn't ennythin' less brung yer hyar jest naow. I know who yer be; ye're her brother Feeleepy, ain't yer? Menny's ther time she's tolt me about yer! Oh, Lawd!
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