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Here the conversation was stayed for a minute or two by the entrance of a footman with a tray of sandwiches and cakes, and ale for Captain Weaver, and wine, and the like. "Are you sure you've got 'em boxed safe, Bill?" he asked, fearfully. "Who'd be a sailor in the Merchant Service!" exclaimed General Groves..

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When he returned O'Dule was seated on the edge of the table, his feet on a stool. He was taking a long sup from the demijohn. O'Dule transferred the potatoes from the frying pan to a cracked plate. He sat down at the table and ate his supper without so much as another word. The boys watched him, fear in their hearts that the eccentric old Irishman would refuse their request. With broadening day the gale had strengthened. Stanhope felt a few stinging snow-pellets on his face, as he gazed, unseeing, outward and waited with tense nerves for the hail of his young friend. Half an hour passed—it seemed like hours to the man waiting, hoping, fearing—and still Billy did not come. He replenished the fire and, his hand coming in contact with the coat which Billy had discarded, he held it on his knees, close to the little stove. Slowly the minutes dragged past and a cold dread of what might have happened grew in the blind man's heart. Billy had likely reached the boat only in time to see it founder and in striving to save its exhausted occupants——. Just at the bend of the road not ten paces from where they had been standing, Mr Lawrence drew forth his pocket-handkerchief to blow his nose, and with it there came out of his pocket and fell upon the road unobserved by him, a large sheet of paper folded into four. Mr Lawrence blew his nose and went round the corner, and the paper would have been out of sight had he looked behind..