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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

And he seems to have got 'Butter Cheeseman,' as they call
him, entirely at his beck and call. He leaves his black horse there
every morning, and rides home at night to his ancestral ruins. There,
now, you know as much as I do."
"There is mischief at the bottom of all this," said Faith; "in these
dangerous times, it must not be neglected. We are bound, as you say,
to consider his wishes, after all that he has done for us. But the
tale about us will be over the place in a few hours, at the latest. The
gunners will have known where their bad shot fell, and perhaps they will
have seen us with their glasses. How will it be possible to keep this
affair from gossip?"
"They may have seen us, without seeing him at all, on account of the
smoke that came afterwards. At any rate, let us say nothing about it
until we hear what other people say. The shell will be washed away
or buried in the sand, for it fell upon the shingle, and then rolled
towards the sea; and there need be no fuss unless we choose to make it,
and so perhaps ruin Captain Stubbard and his family. And his wife has
made such pretty things for us. If he knew what he had done, he would go
and shoot himself. He is so excessively humane and kind."
"We will not urge his humanity to that extreme. I hate all mystery, as
you know well. But about this affair I will say nothing, unless there is
cause to do so, at least until father comes back; and then I shall tell
him if it seems to be my duty.


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