¡°As I live and breathe!¡± Mr. Everdail spoke gruffly, ¡°I begin to wonder if you shouldn¡¯t be the one to have ¡®suspicious¡¯ for a nickname. You have suspected Jeff, and me, and my friend who was with me, and Larsen, here, and his passenger¡ªCaptain Parks and now Mimi! It will be Miss Serena next!¡± ¡°Take a look at this!¡± he hailed Larry as the latter sat on Dick¡¯s porch, whittling on the tiny struts of a model airplane. He thought he guessed Jeff¡¯s ruse. ¡°If I could have held her one second more!¡ª¡± panted Dick. "I'll bet the help don't like the seven o'clock dinner." "Foster?" one drawled, "he'll be along presently, I reckon." Felipa was not there. At the earliest, she could not return for a couple of days, and by then Landor's body[Pg 283] would be laid in the dreary little graveyard, with its wooden headboards and crosses, and its neglected graves among the coyote and snake holes. The life of the service would be going on just as usual, after the little passing excitement was at an end. For it was an excitement. No one in the garrison would have had it end like this, but since what will be will be, and the right theory of life is to make the most of what offers and to hasten¡ªas the philosopher has said¡ªto laugh at all things for fear we may have cause to weep, there was a certain expectation, decently kept down, in the air. Cumberland was now hunting down the fugitives on all sides. He posted himself at Fort Augustus, which the insurgents had blown up before leaving it, and from that centre he sent out his myrmidons in every direction to hunt out the Highlanders, and shoot them down on the spot or bring them in for execution. Everywhere the unhappy clans were pursued by their hereditary enemies, the Whig clans, especially by the men of Argyllshire, and massacred with the most atrocious cruelty. They stripped their houses and then burned them down, drove away the cattle, and tracking the miserable families into dens and caves, smothered them with burning heather, or thus forced them to rush out upon their bayonets. In all these diabolical proceedings, the Duke of Cumberland and the brutal General Hawley were foremost. "After all," Cumberland (whose wicked work earned him the name of "The Butcher") wrote to the Duke of Newcastle from Fort Augustus, "I am sorry to leave this country in the condition it is in, for all the good that we have done has been a little blood-letting, which has only weakened the madness, but not at all cured it; and I tremble for fear[108] that this vile spot may still be the ruin of this island and our family." "I'm goin' out into the country to try and find some chickens to make some broth for you men. Come along, Harry Joslyn, Gid Mackall and little Pete." And so, in little, frightened bunches, they went in. When they were all clear of the door, Albin and Derban stepped in, too, and the doors slid shut. Derban took a second to mutter secretly: "You don't have to lose your temper. You're on a hell of a thin edge this morning." "I do not agree with you, papa." Boorman went out, grumbling at "th' ?ald feller's cussedness," and Reuben sat on without moving. There was now scarcely light to distinguish external objects, when a sudden rush was heard from the town, and, in an instant, a dozen persons surrounded the peddling merchant, and seizing him violently, while uttering threats and imprecations, dragged the dusty-foot to the court of Pie-powder.[1] As they were hauling him along, the crowd increased, the fair was forsaken, all pressing eagerly forward to learn the fate of the unlucky pedlar. The galleyman seemed perfectly to comprehend the nature of his danger¡ªnot by the changing colour of his cheek, for that exhibited still the same glowing brown¡ªbut by the restless flash of his full black eyes, glancing before and around, as if looking for some chance of escape. HoME½ã½ãºÍµÜµÜÂÒÂ××ö°®
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