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"Looks better for us, don't it, giving them back a map worth half a million. Now go through the yarn again and I'll see whether I can pick any holes in it. The train goes in half an hour." Mr. Duckett sighed and, first emptying his mug, began a monotonous recital. Brisket listened attentively. "We were down below asleep when the men came running down and overpowered us.
Duckett, a prey to nervousness, suggested the wisdom of disappearing while they had the opportunity. "Disappear and starve, I suppose?" grunted the scornful Brisket. "What about my certificate? and yours, too? I tell you it's our only chance." He walked up the path to Mr. Chalk's house with a swagger which the mate endeavoured in vain to imitate. Mr.
"Since the disaster," interrupted Tredgold, loudly and hastily. "Since the " Mr. Stobell suddenly remembered. For a few moments he stood irresolute, and then, with an extraordinary contortion of visage, dropped into his chair again and sat gazing blankly before him. "Me and Peter Duckett only landed to-day," said Brisket, "and we came on to see you by the first train we could "
A press campaign in his favour could be better and more cheaply waged in a paper under his entire control. His plan was not to create a journal, but to revive one. In 1835 the Chronique de Paris, formerly called the Globe, was on its last legs, albeit it had been ably edited by William Duckett; and the proprietor, Bethune the publisher, was only too glad to listen to Balzac's overtures.
Not that anything'll make much difference." "And everybody in a flutter of excitement telegraphing off to the owners," commented the captain. "No, we'll tell our story first; quiet and comfortable-like. Say it over again." "I've said it three times," objected Mr. Duckett; "and each time it sounds more unreal than ever." "It'll be all right," said Brisket, puffing at his cigar.
"And you all got off in the other boat," said Tredgold. "I'm very glad." Captain Brisket looked at him, but made no reply. The problem of how to make the best of the situation was occupying all his attention. "Me and Peter Duckett would be glad of some of our pay," he said, at last. "Pay?" repeated Tredgold, in a dazed voice.
"Besides, we've got no choice. It's that or ruin, and there's nobody within thousands of miles to contradict us. We bring both the ship and the map back to 'em. What more can they ask?" "You'll soon know," said the pessimistic Mr. Duckett. "I wonder whether they'll have another shot for the treasure when they get that map back?"
Stobell, whose temper was suffering severely under a long spell of monotonous idleness, and whose remarks concerning the sea and everything in connection with it were so strangely out of keeping with the idea of a pleasure cruise that Mr. Tredgold lectured him severely on his indiscretion. "Stobell is no more doing this for pleasure than I am," said Captain Brisket to Mr. Duckett.
He turned and looked at Mr. Duckett, and Mr. Duckett, trying to smile at him, contorted his face so horribly that he shrank back appalled. He looked about him and saw that they were now in open water and drawing gradually away from the land. The stillness and mystery became unbearable, and with an air of resolution he cocked his rifle and proceeded with infinite caution to stalk the galley.
The publisher relates one scene that he witnessed at the offices of William Duckett, proprietor of the Dictionary of Conversation and Reading. The office door was suddenly opened and Balzac stalked in with his hat on his head. "Is Duckett in?" he curtly asked, addressing in common the chief editor, his sub, and an attendant. There was a conspiracy of silence.
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