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Updated: May 28, 2025
I looked at the wall as half expecting the sword of Captain Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman to rattle to the ground under this awful insinuation. "The only use our family has found for priests, madam," I said, "has been, I fear, to hunt them like vermin. As a Wheatman of the Hanyards, I'm afraid I'm a degenerate." "You'll not even be that much longer if I keep you from getting into some dry clothes.
"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete, deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter."
"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?" "Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!" "Ah!" "There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your eyes on those big houses in the East Gate.
I may not get as good a chance for hours." Now it was his turn to laugh. "Master Wheatman," he said, "you are not the stuff highwaymen are made of. As you are in need of money, you need it for some good purpose, and I shall " He stopped short. As we stood, he was facing the wood from which the robbers had burst on him, while I had my back on it.
"You shall have the Upper Hanyards back again, Master Wheatman," he quavered. The rascal earl, his father, had juggled more than a thousand acres of the Hanyards away from my father by some musty process of law and a venal bench. The reference angered me, and I cried loudly, "You shall not have it back at any price!" He looked at the window, and paled as he thought of the sentinel ears without.
Two plaids were knitted into a litter, a log of a man named Wheatman was bundled into it, and off we started breakfastless, as I said before." "I'm very grateful to you, Mistress Margaret," said I. "Don't be silly!" she answered very sharply. "It is no praise to tell me I acted with common decency. And you weren't bundled in!"
"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied Sir Thomas. "Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, with great good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning you used to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatman writhe to hear it.
"This is Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host, lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could not have heard her. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow.
"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night." "Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight. "This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, the prepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her was at Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden." "Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting.
"Since your head's still on your shoulders," said the Colonel, fumbling for his snuff, "I do. He knocked Maclachlan's Donald into a log of timber, and, damme, I hardly saw his hand move." "That's only a trick, sir," I protested. "Weel, Captain Wheatman," said Murray, "keep your ugly English tricks to y'rsel. Mind ye, colonel or no colonel, I'll break ye first chance ye gie me."
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