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Captain Acton looked at the Admiral, who was staring sternly into Captain Weaver's face. "He didn't shoot, then!" cried the Admiral. His mother gasped. Whatever was coming over the boy, she wondered. Never before had she been able to get a dose of medicine down him without a struggle. There could be only one answer. He was sick—sicker than he let on..

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But this sort of argument did not fall within the frame of Mr Greyquill's picture of integrity. It was a letter lying ready for anybody's hand in a public way; next, it was not addressed; third, it was not signed; and fourth, though the contents were apparently in Mr Lawrence's handwriting, yet some people did write, as Greyquill knew, so wonderfully alike that there was no reason to conclude without strong internal evidence that the letter Mr Greyquill held was written by Mr Lawrence. Whatever else it was, it was certainly a draft roughly pencilled of a letter that had been copied in ink and no doubt despatched. Here and there was an erasure in ink, which proved that it had been copied in ink and corrected in certain places by the pen that was transcribing it. He had not proceeded far when his eyebrows, which, as we have heard, inimitably expressed the aspect of two white mice, arched their backs to an extraordinary degree as though in imitation of a cat when enraged; his mouth took on the posture of a whistle; with his eyes rooted to[Pg 140] the sheet he stopped and scratched his head until he nearly tumbled his hat into the road. Whilst they were coming Captain Weaver said to Captain Acton: "The master of that brig, sir, seems to have his wife aboard." "Well, he is a respectable though a very illiterate man, and I had half made up my mind to offer him the berth. But I am affected by your trouble. I should be glad to be of service to your son. Whilst we have talked I have been thinking, and if he is prepared to accept the position I am quite willing that he should take the Minorca out and home from the West Indies this voyage on the terms I am in the habit of giving—twelve pounds a month and a commission on the earnings of the voyage." "Jest you wait a bit and you'll find that out. Nixt day I go down there ag'in to look fer me charm, but find ut I did not. Then wid me little jug in me hand and me whistle in me bosom, did I strike across woods to the Twin Oaks store, there to learn av the robbery. A little bit av drink did I get from Spencer, an' takin' ut home was I when an accident I had, an' spilled ut. Well, ut was afther several days av hard toil, wid not so much as a drop left in me little jug, that one mornin' as I was cuttin' through the lower valley fer Thompson's tater-patch, that come to me ut did I'd search a bit fer me lost charm ag'in..