Meanwhile Miss Du Plessis, having laid the dominie's wealth of postal
matter before his eyes, at his request read the solitary letter.
_My Dear Wilks_,--I hope that, under your excellent corps of nurses
and guardian angels, you are gradually recovering from your
Falstaffian encounter with Ancient Pistol. Don't let Miss Du
Plessis see this or she'll faint. I had a toughish ride to
Collingwood, and part of the way back, the latter at the suggestion
of Hickey Bangs. If I were as plucky for my size as that little
fellow is, I could face a regiment. He got the prisoner safely
caged, which is the proper thing to say about gaol birds. I came
down with him and his select party this morning, meeting Captain
and Mrs. Thomas and The Crew on the way. They wanted me to go on a
cruise. The kindness of the whole Carruthers family is like the
widow's curse; it's inexhaustible. Having been badly sold, however,
over a Lamb, and cheap, too, I was not eligible for more sail. I
write this, Wilks, more in sorrow than in anger, but I do hanker
after those jolly Bridesdale days.
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