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Darius spoke sharply. "Your honour, there's naught on Mr. Calhoun's estate that's got the taint, and he's not the man to go hunting for it. Drink well, suppose a gentleman does take his quartern, is it a crime? I ask your honour, is that a crime in Jamaica?" "It's no crime, Boland; nevertheless, your Mr.
At the very entrance, inside the gate, in the garden, they saw Sheila Llyn, her mother, and Darius Boland, who seemed to be enduring from the mother some sharp reprimand, to the amusement of the daughter. As the gate closed behind Dyck and Michael, the three from Virginia turned round and faced them. As Dyck came forward, Sheila flushed and trembled.
When he came, you were for tying him up in one little corner of this island the hottest part, I know, near to Kingston, where it averages ninety degrees in the shade at any time of the year. But the King you represent had not restricted his liberties so, and you being the King, that is, yourself, were forced to abide by your own regulations. So it may be the same with Darius Boland.
I did not know of the rise of the Maroons." "In what direction did they go?" asked Dyck with anxiety, though his tone was even. Darius Boland pointed. "They went slightly northwest, and if they go as I think they meant to do, they would come back the way you came in." "They were armed?" Dyck asked sharply. "Yes, they were armed," was the reply. "Miss Llyn had a small pistol.
The wife soon found that it would be more convenient for her, and perhaps somewhat safer, to be living near her husband, and therefore went to reside in Limerick. The news of Darby's arrest caused no little alarm through the county, and it was soon whispered about that persons were now arrested, of whose participation in the Boland affair no human being could give any hint except himself alone.
She had purposes which she must carry out, and she steeled herself. She wanted to get from Lord Mallow a pledge concerning Dyck Calhoun, and she must be patient. "I know nothing direct from Mr. Calhoun, your honour!" she said, "but only through his servant, Michael Clones, who is a friend of my Darius Boland, and they have met often since the first outbreak.
I'm going to Salem-riding as hard as I can, with six of our best men. They're not so daft at Salem as we are, Michael. They won't know how to act or what to do. Darius Boland is a good man, but he's only had Virginian experience, and this is different. A hundred Maroons are as good as a thousand white soldiers in the way the Maroons fight.
Darius looked concerned, and his dry face wrinkled still more. "Ah, and when was this word come, your honour?" "But yesterday, Boland, and he'll do well to obey, for I have no choice but to take him in hand if he goes gallivanting." "Gallivanting here, in Jamaica! Does your honour remember where we are?" "Not in a bishop's close, Boland."
"Laziness!" repeated Ferdie sternly. "'Tis a vice that I abhor. Slip me a smoke." Francis Charles fumbled in the cypress humidor at Ferdie's elbow; he leaned over the table and gently closed Ferdie's finger and thumb upon a cigarette. "Match," sighed Ferdie. Boland struck a match; he held the flame to the cigarette's end. Ferdie puffed. Then he eyed his friend with judicial severity.
But the governor was there yesterday, and he'd protect us." "Nonsense, fellow, the governor would go straight to Spanish Town where he belongs, when there is trouble." When the man had gone, Dyck turned to his servant. "Michael," he said, "the news in the letter came from Darius Boland.
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