Ben and Maguffin brought him in by
force, lest in his despair he should do himself an injury, and sat him
down in an easy chair with the wished-for cider mug before him. He had
sense enough left to attach himself to the mug, and draw comfort from
its depths. Then he murmured: "Thomas Rigby, eighteen years in service,
promoted corporal for valour before the enemy, Crimean and Indian medals
and clasps, captured by a female young woman, bound and imprisoned by
the same, Attention! no, as you were!" Addressing Mr. Terry he
continued: "Sergeant Major, that woman, unless I find her, will bring my
grey hairs with sorrow to the grave."
"Come, come, now, corporal dear! shure it isn't the firsht toime a foine
lukin' owld sowljer has been captivated boy the ladies. Honoria's
blissed mother, rist her sowl in heaven, tuk me prishner wid a luk av
her broight black eyes, an', iv she wor livin', she cud do it agin."
With the morning came a thunderstorm, altogether unexpected, for
Monday's north-western breeze had promised fine and cooler weather. But
the south wind had conquered for a time, and now the two blasts were
contending in the clouds above and on the waters of the distant great
lake below.
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