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Updated: June 26, 2025
You must give me his full name and address." "And let him beware of Westall," said Lord Maxwell, kindly. "Give him a hint, Miss Boyce, and nobody will rake up bygones. There is nothing I dislike so much as rows about the shooting. All the keepers know that." "And of course," said Miss Raeburn, coldly, "if the family are in real distress there are plenty of people at hand to assist them.
But, contrary to his expectations, Rodney fell asleep in less than half an hour and slumbered soundly until he was awakened by one of the Emergency men, who made considerable noise in punching up the fire. Mr. Westall was also aroused. Raising himself on his elbow he said, drowsily: "That you, Harvey? Have you been out to look at that friend of ours in the corn-crib?"
"This critter wasn't stolen no more'n your'n was," replied the farmer, in tones so earnest that Rodney began to fear he had stepped upon dangerous ground. "That was a lie that man Westall and amongst 'em got up to drive him outen his uncle's settlement. This is his hoss and he's got your'n." "Where is he now?"
It was in the first heat of her moral indignation that she had met Clement Westall. She had seen at once that he was "interested," and had fought off the discovery, dreading any influence that should draw her back into the bondage of conventional relations. To ward off the peril she had, with an almost crude precipitancy, revealed her opinions to him.
I was frightened of him. I duresn't trust myself, and I said to Jim I'd take him. So you can understan', miss, can't you, as Jim don't want to have nothing to do with Westall? Thank you kindly, all the same," she added, breaking off her narrative with the same uncertainty of manner, the same timid scrutiny of her visitor that Marcella had noticed before.
It was with a heavy heart that Rodney saw him go, and as Tom did not once look his way, the latter could not even give him a glance of encouragement. When the three men returned at the end of ten minutes Mr. Westall was saying: "It's a slimpsy place to shut a prisoner up in and I should be afraid to trust it, if it were not for the dogs.
Westall and his friends had circulated about Tom seemed to have made every one his enemy. "I suppose you think every man we have been talking to is a Jackson man, don't you?" said Mr. Westall, when they had left the settlement behind and reached the open country once more. "Well, they aint.
The law she had despised was still there, might still be invoked... invoked, but to what end? Could she ask it to chain Westall to her side? SHE had been allowed to go free when she claimed her freedom should she show less magnanimity than she had exacted? Magnanimity? The word lashed her with its irony one does not strike an attitude when one is fighting for life!
"No, he never stole a horse or anything else that we know of," repeated Mr. Westall. "But he rides a critter that is so near like one that was stolen from a Confederate by a Union man of the name of Morehouse a few days ago, that you could hardly tell them apart." "And I don't much blame Morehouse for stealing that horse, either," said one of the Emergency men, who had not spoken before.
It was in quest of such aid that she had seized on Westall, coaxing him, somewhat to his wife's surprise, into a flattered participation in her fraud. It was vaguely felt, in the Van Sideren circle, that all the audacities were artistic, and that a teacher who pronounced marriage immoral was somehow as distinguished as a painter who depicted purple grass and a green sky.
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