Historische Museum

Historische Museum water-works at London Bridge, and the water roaring in its passage At that moment the man at the mast-head with the telescope still at his eye, shouted the magic words: "Sail ho!",CHAPTER XIII AN UNEXPECTED ALLY,Evidence--in brief--of Major Jen: "I was the guardian of the deceased Maurice Alymer. I adopted him as my son. He was in love with, and engaged to, Miss Dallas, but the mother did not approve of the engagement. Dr. Etwald, the prisoner, also loved Miss Dallas, but she refused to marry him. I showed the prisoner the devil-stick and explained its use, whereupon he wished to purchase it. I declined to part with it, and afterward it was stolen. After its disappearance, Mr. Alymer was killed by means of the devil-stick poison. His hand was but slightly scratched, and he could not have died from so trivial a cause had not the weapon used been poisoned. Moreover, I recognized the perfume which emanated from the body as that of the devil-stick poison. Dr. Etwald had threatened the deceased once or twice. Afterward the body of deceased disappeared, and the drug used to stupefy the watcher of the dead was the poison of the devil-stick.","Silence, will you?" shouted Griffin, pounding like mad. "Keep still till the exercises are over. The first little girl to speak her piece is Miss Doris Leighton. Come up, Doris, dear. Don't put your finger in your mouth, and speak so we can all hear you. Fire away.","Coolnagurtheen."，My, oh, my! Just look at all the apples! There must be fully a half bushel—a good many for such a little old tree.，"She was hidden under the bed, sir."，Who else could help?Patricia grinned. "You two geniuses understand each other, I see. Might a humdrum mortal remind you that David is just about sliding into the train shed at this moment?"

"The Voodoo stone," echoed Jen, much puzzled. "And what may that be?",CHAPTER XXI A DAY WITH THE DUCKS,The next day Scarface went on again, stopping now and then to rest and to pick berries, and when night came he was at the bear's lodge.,Something like a muffled chuckle came from behind the stairway door, but the good woman, intent on her grievance, did not hear it. Wilson heard, however, and let the boot-jack fall to the floor with a clatter. He picked it up and carried it over to its accustomed peg on the wall, whistling softly the tune which he had whistled to Billy in the old romping, astride-neck days:,He stiffened himself, and saluted her by a flourish of his hand to his brow, and answered: "Just about middling, thank you, Miss.","She won't be patronizing Elinor after this," thought Patricia with a chuckle. "And Mr. Grantly has to swallow himself, too. He'll hate to have to eat humble pie to Bruce after all his din against Bruce's way of thinking. But they all like it, Mr. Lindley and the Halls and Mr. Spicer, too. Dear old Norn, how proud I am of you!","If I don't see you ag'in alive, Bill, good bye," whispered Maurice as he opened the door.,"While you still lived? While I might be of some use to you? No!" says Mona, her eyes gleaming. "To myself I said, there will be time enough for that later on." Then, with a little dry sob, "There will be time to die later on.",Half alarmed, he lays his hand gently on her shoulder, and, as she struggles quickly into life again, he draws her into his arms.,"Nonsense! Would you have me believe you are afraid of her?",The ordinary was held in a long room next to the room in which the seafaring men congregated. As a meal it was renowned in the district. Coarse it might have been called, coarse and plentiful, but it was of that sort of coarseness which makes very good eating. Mr Short, the landlord, was a liberal caterer, and he excelled in choice of rounds of beef, in joints of venison, in legs of pork and mutton, in fine dishes of veal; and this ordinary was always graced with a precedent dish of fish, which was invariably fresh from the sea, and whether turbot, cod, bake, soles, and many flat fish which the smacks brought with them into Old Harbour, were delicious in freshness and flavour. Short's cheeses, too, were always very fine, dry, crumbly, flakey, nutty, and without being too strong they flavoured the bread or the biscuit with what the palate knew to be real cheese. His cellars held a very fine old port, but it was seldom asked for unless some person of distinction and importance occupied a seat at that teeming and appetising board. Short brewed his [Pg 125]own beer, and a delicate amber draught it was; there was no better beer brewed in England.,“I am not a specimen. I am Johnny Blossom.”.