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"A-tearin' up of their clothes and a-goin' about without shame. He was a man called Micky Cruppin, sir. Another 'ud stop at every pool to wash his feet. I knowed a man who wouldn't attend sarvice 'cos he said that the devil always came in, and took a seat beside him. There was old Mother Compton, who'd spit at a dog if he barked at her, who used to do her washin' on the Sabbath, sayin' that she was too good to go to church, and that the parson ought to be 'anged for having committed a forgery where he last lived. And this she'd say of a new parson just as she would of t'other who had gone afore him." "What a wicked, dreadful old man!" exclaimed Miss Acton, "to preserve such a[Pg 218] hideous secret, and to be willing to wait for payment of his three hundred pounds out of another man's robbery. What is to be done? What will you do, brother? Our Lucy must be rescued. Is it too late? She was here in this house this morning at seven o'clock. The ship cannot be far off. Cannot she be reached?" "Yep, I saw it last spring—in the Eau rice beds, it was. I was tryin' to find a blue-winged teal's nest. Saw the drake trail off an' knowed the duck must be settin' somewhere on the high land close beside the pond. As I was standin' still, lookin' about, this little water snake come swimmin' 'cross a mushrat run. Jest then I saw a shadder cross the reeds, an' a fish-hawk swooped down an' made a grab at the snake. The snake dived an' come up close to shore. The hawk wheeled an' swooped ag'in. This time the water was too shallow fer snakie to get clear away. The hawk grabbed him in his claws an' started up with him. 'Goodbye, little snake,' I thought, an' jest then I noticed that the hawk was havin' trouble; fer one thing, he wasn't flyin' straight, an' he was strikin' with his curved beak without findin' anythin'. Pretty soon he started saggin' down to the reeds. I jumped into the punt an' made fer the spot where I thought he'd come down. Jest as I got there he splashed into the shallow water. I stood up in the punt, an' then I saw what had happened. The little water-snake had coiled round the hawk's neck an' had kept its head close under his throat. You know that a water snake has two little saw teeth, one on each side of the upper jaw. I've often wondered what good a pair of teeth like that could be to 'em, but I don't any more, 'cause that little snake had cut that hawk's throat with them snags an' saved himself.".

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He was Mr Walter Lawrence, a son of Admiral Lawrence, and down to a recent period a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He was something over thirty years of age, but drink, dissipation, the hard life of the sea and some fever which had got into his blood and proved intermittent, had worked in his face like time, and he might have passed for any age between thirty-five and forty-five. Nevertheless he was an extremely handsome man, of the classic Greek type in lineament, but improved, at least to the British eye, by the Saxon colouring of hair, skin, and eyes. His teeth were extraordinarily white and good for a sailor who had lived on gun-room fare in times when the ship's biscuit was flint, and the peas which rolled about in the discoloured hot water called soup, fit only for loading a blunderbuss with to shoot men dead. His eyes told their tale of drink, but they were large and fine and spirited; his light brown hair, according to the fashion of[Pg 39] the age, was combed down his back and lay in a rope-shaped tail there. He wore a wide-brimmed round hat, and his attire, a little the worse for wear, consisted of a blue coat, white waistcoat, sage-green kerseymere breeches, and, needless to say, the cravat was high and full. He stood about six feet, his figure was extremely well proportioned, and in addition to these merits his carriage had the easy elegance which the flow of the billow and the heave of the deck infuse into all human figures not radically vile and deformed. His voice was soft, winning, and somewhat plaintive, and no man, whether on or off the stage, not even Incledon, sang a song with more exquisite feeling and sweeter sincerity of passion. "Here, you Willium," she commanded, "you drink these here salts and not a word out o' you, or I'll tan you good and plenty." So here lay the reason that the swamp-waters never froze even when winter locked all other waters fast in its icy clutch! What caused those air bubbles, if air bubbles they were? Mrs. Wilson sighed. "Well, if you're sure you don't need these here salts—" she lifted the glass and stood hesitating, "why, I don't s'pose there's re'lly any call fer you to take 'em. It seems too bad to waste 'em, though.".