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    Software name: appdown
    Software type: Microsoft Framwork

    size: 692MB


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      Chapter 15"Unaccountable good."

      "She's gone!"

      "Look up, pretty one," said De Boteler to Margaret!"Now, by my faith Holgrave, I commend your choice. I wonder not that such a prize was contended for. Margaret,I believe that is your name? Look up! and tell me in what secret place you grew into such beauty?"

      "What time?and I'll promise father shall be here to see you.""Thanks, f?ather, but if you offered to give us to-day every penny you've got, I'd let you have no child of mine. Maybe we'll be poor and miserable and have to work hard, but he w?an't be one-half so wretched wud us as he'd be wud you. D'you think I disremember my own childhood and the way you m?ade us suffer? You're an old man, but you're heartyyou might live to a hundredand I'd justabout die of sorrow if I[Pg 442] thought any child of mine wur living wud you and being m?ade as miserable as you m?ade us. I'd rather see my boy dead than at Odiam."

      "I guessed too."

      The lushburgs (as this base coin was called) were then produced. The judge took the money, and was raising the phial to apply the test, when the accused, whose hands had been left at liberty, drew something from his breast, and threw it on the lamp which was burning before him. The lamp was extinguished;a sudden explosion took place; burning fragments were scattered in every direction; a strange suffocating smell filled the tent, and nearly stifled the astonished spectators. Before they could recover from their surprise, the galleyman had knocked down the two witnesses, crept under the canvas of the tent, and, with the bound of a deer, reached the wooded hill that lay at a short distance behind."Well, you shan't have it. I'll justabout sell the whole lot. You can't prevent me."


      "Another time, Margaretnot now; butthe child was born before its father declared himself a wretch! and I will look upon itpoor little creature!" he continued, gazing at the babe as Margaret raised it up, "what a strange colour it is!""No."



      sang the sailor sentimentally. His arm crept up from her waist to her shoulder and lay heavy there. They strolled on along the narrow path, and the darkness stole down on them from the Moor, wrapping them softly together. They told each other their nameshis was Joe Dansay, and he was a sailorman of Rye, who had been on many voyages to South America and the Coral Seas. He looked about twenty-five, though he was tanned and weather-beaten all over. His eyes were dark and foreign-looking, so was his hair. His mouth was a trifle too wide, his nose short and stubborn.