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Updated: June 17, 2025
It was evident that the best part of Gibraltar had no charms for Mrs. Wilders; she did not want to look into the shop windows, such as they were; nor did she pause to admire the architectural beauties of the Garrison Library or other severely plain masterpieces of our military engineers.
Stranger still, this regiment is the same as that in which poor Anastasius is serving the Royal Picts. The young man's name is McKay Stanislas Anastasius Wilders McKay. I have never seen him; but I am satisfied of his existence, and of the absolute validity of his claims. My agents have long had their eye on him, and through them I have full information of his movements and disposition.
"How amusing! How interesting! It's like a scene in a play!" cried Mrs. Wilders, as she stepped ashore. Escorted by her husband and cousin, they pushed their way through the crowd towards the Waterport gateway, and under it into the main ditch. As they approached there was a cry of "Guard, turn out!" and the Waterport Guard, under its officer, fell in with open ranks to give the general a salute.
John Clare's labours as a lime-burner at Bridge Casterton were of the most severe kind. He was in the employ of a Mr. Wilders, who exacted great toil from all his men, setting them to work fourteen hours a day, and sometimes all the night long in addition.
"I have not yet breakfasted." "So I see. I am delighted. No more have I." "Was it to ask yourself to breakfast that you came here this morning?" "Not entirely; another little matter brought me; but we can deal with the two at the same time. Pray order them to serve: I am excessively hungry." Mrs. Wilders, without answering, pettishly pulled the bell.
"There is nothing to show, except that he was inveigled by some mysterious communication a letter sent on board the yacht." "Inveigled for some base purpose robbery, perhaps?" "Very probably. When the body was found, it had been rifled of everything watch, money, rings: everything had gone." Mrs. Wilders sighed deeply.
I fear, however, that I must not look for what I want among the Wilders. I can readily understand that they might be unwilling to work in the shade, where there would be nothing to repay them except the smile of Him who will not let even the cup of cold water rightly given go unrewarded. What do you say to Lady Willerly's daughter? I have heard great things of her.
She has been very kind, you know," she went on to Colonel Wilders, who had taken Lydstone's seat by her side. "But for her I should have starved." "Dear me! how sad," said the colonel. "Was it so bad as that? How did it happen. Was M. Cyprienne unlucky?" She did not answer; and the colonel, wondering, looked up, to find her fine eyes filled with tears. "How stupid of me! What an idiot I am!
"Can she be such a fiendish wretch?" "She is a demon, Stanislas McKay. Beware how you cross her path. But let her also take heed how she tries to injure you again. She will have to do with me then." "Why, Hyde! what extraordinary language is this? What do you know of Mrs. Wilders? What can you mean?" "Some day you shall hear everything, but not now. It is too long a story.
I am his aide-de-camp. Show the way, will you?" "It may be as you say," muttered Trejago, not half satisfied. "But you will have to wait till Mrs. Wilders says she will receive you." "What's the matter? Who is this person?" It was the voice of Mrs. Wilders, who now advanced from the stern of the yacht, having seen but not overheard the latter part of the altercation. McKay stepped forward.
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