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Updated: May 31, 2025
Sometimes when their political patrons quarrel over a pair of mediocrities, a saintly man who is either very old or very ill like Bishop Crawshay is appointed as a stop-gap." "Yes," the Rector agreed. "But our present bishops are only one more aspect of Victorian materialism. The whole of contemporary society can be criticized in the same way.
I'd never hold up my head again if the Von Blucher got us!" Crawshay held out his hand. "Forgive me, Captain," he said, "but we want proof. Leave it to me, and if things are as I suspect, we'll have that proof probably before to-morrow morning," he added, glancing at the chart. There was a call down the deck, a knock at the door. The captain took up his oilskins regretfully.
"Children?" Dr. Crawshay repeated. "You surely don't let children go to the Celebration?" "Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven," Father Rowley reminded the Bishop. "Yes, yes, I happen to have heard that text before. But the devil, Mr. Rowley, can cite Scripture to his purpose."
His little start, his look of blank astonishment, were coupled with a certain loss of poise which Crawshay had been quick to note. But, after all, the interlude was brief enough. "Exactly what does this mean, Nora?" he demanded. Her vivid brown eyes were fastened upon his face, eager to understand his attitude, a little defiant, a little appealing.
"I have never seen it before," she declared. There was another painful, significant silence. Crawshay bent forward and examined the seals through his glass. "This," he announced presently, "is the official seal of a neutral Embassy. You see how the packet is addressed?"
I don't know how you are feeling, Miss Beverley, but I am conscious of a distinct chill." Jocelyn Thew had come to a standstill before them. He was wearing no overcoat and was bare-headed. "I guess that chill is somewhere in your imagination, Mr. Crawshay," he observed. "You are pretty strong in that line, aren't you?" Crawshay struggled to his feet. "I have some ideas," he confessed modestly.
Crawshay, though you have broken Dartmoor; you've got to listen to a better man, and obey him. I see you through in my own way, or not at all. I come and go as I like, and with whom I like, without your interference; you stay here and lie just as low as you know how, be as wise as your word, and leave the whole thing to me. If you won't if you're fool enough not to trust me there's the door.
"I am bound to confess, Miss Sharey," he sighed, "that your friend Mr. Jocelyn Thew has been the disappointment of my life." "Some brains, eh?" "He has brains, courage and luck," Crawshay pronounced. "Against these three things it is very hard work to bring off shall I say a coup?" "The man who gets the better of Jocelyn Thew," she declared, with a little laugh, "deserves all the nuts.
"Any news?" "I have been compelled," Crawshay announced, stirring his coffee, "to dismantle your wireless." "The devil you have!" "Also, to speak words of wisdom to young Robins. I detected him signalling our location to the Blucher." The captain set down his coffee cup. "Mr. Crawshay," he said, "this is a very serious accusation." "It isn't an accusation at all it's a fact," Crawshay replied.
Crawshay returned the envelope to his pocket and rose to his feet. "Well, I'll be getting along," he observed. "We'll have another little chat, Captain, later on. I must take my matutinal stroll, or I know how I shall feel about luncheon time.
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