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

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

"
Impelled by duty to put best leg foremost, and taking a short-cut above
the village, he came out upon the lane leading towards the castle, some
half-mile or so beyond the last house of Springhaven. Here he waited to
recover breath, and prepare for what he meant to say, and he was sorry
to perceive that light would fail him for strict observation of his
nephew's face. But he chose the most open spot he could find, where the
hedges were low, and nothing overhung the road.
Presently he heard the sound of hoofs approaching leisurely up the hill,
and could see from his resting-place that Carne was coming, sitting
loosely and wearily on his high black horse. Then the Rector, to cut
short an unpleasant business, stood boldly forth and hailed him.
"No time for anything now," shouted Carne; "too late already. Do you
want my money? You are come to the wrong man for that; but the right
one, I can tell you, for a bullet."
"Caryl, it is I, your uncle Twemlow, or at any rate the husband of your
aunt. Put up your pistol, and speak to me a minute. I have something
important to say to you. And I never can find you at the castle."
"Then be quick, sir, if you please;" Carne had never condescended to
call this gentleman his uncle. "I have little time to spare. Out with
it."
"You were riding very slowly for a man in a hurry," said the Rector,
annoyed at his roughness. "But I will not keep you long, young man.


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