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They gently rolled the dead, or dying, man on to his back, and the nature of his injury appeared. He was clothed in white trousers, a light blue coat, and a shirt the front of which was ornamented by some light tracing like flowers. He was without a cravat, and his head was uncovered. The left side of his shirt was soaked in blood, and the singed hole through which the bullet had passed from the weapon whose muzzle he had pressed to his breast, was visible in the thick of the dark crimson dye. His face was marble-white. It wore an expression of torture. His lips were parted and grey. The eyelids were half-closed, and the whites of the eye only were visible. She declined his offer, yet with a maiden's secret fretfulness over the perception that her judgment compelled her into a step against the wishes and sighs of her heart. "'Course it's a lot too much. S'pose we try on' get hold of some of it, Bill?".
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Conrad
Billy took the Indian turnip from his chum and with his knife scraped off a portion of white, pungent pulp. "Now then, put this on the back of your tongue, an' leave it there," he directed. "Faith," sighed Harry, "ut's meself is willin' to be riskin' a little in return fer a bite to eat, fer it's fastin' long I've been an' as impty as a church, I am." Billy grinned sheepishly. "We should'a killed 'em, I s'pose," he said, "but we took 'em down to the marsh an' turned 'em loose there. Maurice said that anythin' that had done the good work them weasels had, deserved life, an' I thought so too." "Bill won't bother you none if you do what I say," said Maurice as he made for the grove. Half an hour later he and Billy approached old Harry's hut and knocked gently on the door. Harry's voice bade them enter..
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