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Updated: June 21, 2025
"I was on the point of taking leave at any rate," said Tregarthen with a smile, as he grasped Oliver's hand; "think over our plan, like a good fellow; I am sure Mr Donnithorne will approve of it, and I'll look in to-morrow forenoon to hear what decision you come to."
He saw Clearemout suddenly place a kerchief on Rose's mouth, and, despite the poor girl's struggles, tie it firmly so as to prevent her screaming, then he threw a large shawl over her, and catching her in his arms bore her swiftly towards the boat. Tregarthen sprang up and confronted him. Clearemout, astonished and maddened by this unexpected interference, shouted, "Stand aside, sir!
Oliver's countenance betrayed anxiety as he came forward. "Nothing wrong, I hope?" said Tregarthen. "Well, I can't say exactly that things are wrong; but, at the same time, I don't know that they are altogether right." "Much the same thing," said Tregarthen, smiling; "come, Oliver, unbosom yourself, as novelists say. It will do you good, and two heads, you know, are better than one."
"A pretty serious question as most speculators find," said Tregarthen, laughing; "you appear to think lightly of it." "Well, I don't pretend to know much about such matters," replied Oliver, "but whatever may be the truth of the case, old Hitchin refuses to come forward.
"It seems a monstrous height to be swung in air, helpless as a babe. But Tregarthen says it can be done, and I am willing to trust him. If at the top you can rig up some kind of litter for me, and convey me home without noise ... I have a fancy, and it is also Miss Cara's, that we keep the main part of this mystery to ourselves. But who is the helper aloft there?" "Sir Ommaney Ward." "Hey?"
"Why then we every one go back together paper, writer, and all and take Tregarthen into the secret we kept from him?" "Surely," said Alfred, "we can't help it now. We must go through with our duty." "Not a doubt," returned the captain. "Give me an arm apiece, and let us set this ship-shape."
"What a splendid country for a painter of cliffs!" observed Oliver, as the friends walked briskly along; "I wonder much that our artists do not visit it more frequently." "Perhaps they find metal more attractive nearer home," replied Tregarthen; "all the world has not fallen so violently in love with furze-clad moorland and rugged sea-cliffs as you seem to have done.
Tregarthen, and lives with her to look after the children." "Yes, yes," interrupted the Lieutenant, losing patience. "But the question is, how you came here, and why?" Vashti stood panting. By the heave of her bosom it was plain to see that either her fears still possessed her or that she had been running for dear life, and must catch breath. Her hand went up to her bodice.
"That critter," said the captain, smiting his leg, "is a born steward, and never ought to have been in any other way of life. Stop where you are, Tom, and make yourself useful. Now, Tregarthen, I'm going to try a chair." Accordingly the captain drew one close to him, and went on: "This loving member of the Raybrock family you know, sir. This slow member of the same family you don't know, sir.
Ere long he was joined by Rose, with whom he entered into conversation, leading her over the cape so as to get out of sight of the men, but young Tregarthen crept among the rocks and never for a moment lost sight of them.
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