CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Fortunately, her course had been shifted immediately after the rescue of the child; and, in consequence of this movement, she received the first shock of the hurricane, which blew from the southwest, upon her stern. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. ’ ‘Assuredly there are many escaping from France at this time. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. Around him were all the evidences of plenty. ’ ‘But I have still a dagger,’ Melusine warned.
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