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Captain Acton, holding the Greyquill letter in his hand, stepped to a bell rope and pulled it. The hue of his face was ashen, the expression cold and severe: such a face as he would carry had he to confront a crowd of armed mutineers. * * * * * * * * Come, let us be glad—both togither, me lad—.
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"But supposin' the will can't be found?" Billy looked the other boy in the face and waited for the answer. "Nothing but a slice or two of tongue was sent to her," said Mr Lawrence, "that requires a knife to cut it with. Go on! Tell me what followed." The Admiral drummed with his fingers upon the table, looking down. He stretched himself full length on the sand, and drank. When he arose, wiping his mouth, the cows had moved off lazily towards the Causeway. Billy did not follow at once. He did not want to miss the dance of the fire-flies above the darkening marsh along the Causeway, the twilight blush on the pine tips of Point Aux forest, the light-house gleam, nor the prayer-time hush of the mystery-filled rush-land. So he tarried beside the lake until the pines and cedars had melted into indistinct masses and the call of the whip-poor-will sounded faintly from far away. Then he turned homeward..
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