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As the carriage went down a lane into the main road, it overtook Sir William Lawrence, who was stoutly trudging along in the [Pg 86]direction of Old Harbour, striking the ground as he went with a staff with the regularity of the pounding of a wooden leg whose owner marches steadily. Eleven line-of-battle ships, as Captain Acton said, and three frigates. They flew no colours:[Pg 393] nothing in that way could be seen save the little patch against the flecked sky that denoted the flag-ship. Mr. Johnston frowned darkly. "Walter Watland—what?" he repeated..
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
Not far from the large old-fashioned hearth[Pg 65] beside a little table on which stood a work-basket, sat in a tall-backed arm-chair fit for a queen to be crowned in, a figure that must have carried the memory of a middle-aged or old man of that time well back into the past century. She was Miss Acton, Lucy's Aunt Caroline, sister of Captain Acton, a lady of about seventy years of age, who trembled with benevolence and imaginary alarms, who was always doing somebody good, and was now at work upon some baby clothing for an infant that had been born a week or two before. Landon put on his hat and went down to the beach to welcome their visitor. "Well, Billy," he called as the punt appeared around the bend in the shore, "how many ducks did old Liza-Ann drop out of the sky this mornin'?" "Still begging of your honours' pardon," said Captain Weaver, "suppose the Minorca do back her topsail and we launch our boat; Mr Lawrence makes out his father and Captain Acton in the starn sheets. Will he stay to receive ye? Won't he fill on his topsail and be off?" "I'll be movin' now," he said, as he wiped his mouth on a tattered sleeve. "God kape you safe, Caleb Spencer, an' may yer whisky-barrel niver run dhry.".
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