Instead of growing tired,
they get sharper every day. Even Charron can scarcely run through them
now. But I know who could do it, if he could only be trusted. With a
pilot-boat--it is a fine idea--a pilot-boat entered as of Pebbleridge.
The Pebbleridge people hate Springhaven, through a feud of centuries,
and Springhaven despises Pebbleridge. It would answer well, although the
landing is so bad, and no anchorage possible in rough weather. I must
try if Dan Tugwell will undertake it. None of the rest know the coast
as he does, and few of them have the bravery. But Dan is a very sulky
fellow, very difficult to manage. He will never betray us; he is
wonderfully grateful; and after that battle with the press-gang, when he
knocked down the officer and broke his arm, he will keep pretty clear of
the Union-jack. But he goes about moping, and wondering, and mooning, as
if he were wretched about what he has to do. Bless my soul, where is my
invention? I see the way to have him under my thumb. Reason is an old
coat hanging on a peg; passion is the fool who puts it on and runs away
with it. Halloa! Who are you? And what do you want at such a time as
this? Surely you can see that I am not at leisure now. Why, Tugwell, I
thought that you were far away at sea!"
"So I was, sir; but she travels fast. I never would believe the old
London Trader could be driven through the water so. Sam Polwhele knows
how to pile it on a craft, as well as he do upon a man, sir.
Pages:
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516