[88175] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Controversial LED Flashlight
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Lana Katelyn)
Tue Sep 6 12:27:26 2016
Date: Tue, 6 Sep 2016 10:55:57 -0400
From: "Lana Katelyn" <lana_katelyn@upbeatactions.stream>
To: <mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu>
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<p>Controversial LED Flashlight<br /> The ship awoke suddenly from her s=
woon. An appalling clamour boiled up from the still waters. Bugle-calls spl=
it the air; drums rolled furiously; a carronade went off with a shattering =
roar; there was a rush of feet and tumult of voices. Above the confusion co=
uld be heard Piggy thumping at the door and squealing, " _Les depeches=
! Les depeches!_" Kit, sliding through the water, was thankful for the=
flash of insight that had made him lock the door, and throw away the key. =
That action meant minutes gained; these minutes might mean life. The tide w=
as with him now. But for that, and this merciful mist, his chances would be=
_nil_. His ears behind him, he swam like a hunted otter. Aboard the privat=
eer things were moving fast. The confusion abated; order began to reign; wi=
th it the danger grew. Somebody was at work with an axe on the door. It cam=
e down with a crash. There was a shrill command and the scamper of feet. Pi=
ggy was on deck. " _Feu, imbecile! par la! dans le brouillard!_" =
A bullet plopped into the water wide on the boy' s right. " _Au bateau=
!_" Again that scamper of feet: then the rattle of blocks and creak of=
pulleys. Besides all was swiftness, and fierce silence; and that silence t=
errified the lad far more than the preceding tumult. " _Depechez vous =
donc, gredins!_" They were lowering a boat; and he was getting done. T=
he despatch-bag was heavy between his shoulders. His hold upon himself was =
relaxing: dissolution was setting in. The firm mind, which at all times and=
in all places means salvation, was dissipating. He tried not to think. All=
there was of him he needed for his swimming. Thought was waste; so was fea=
r. And swim he did, and swim, through endless water, with sickening brain a=
nd failing arms. Behind him he heard a splash, as the privateer' s boat too=
k the sea. They' d be coming soon now. He didn' t mind much: he was too tir=
ed. And they couldn' t hurt him: he was too far away. He heard the splash o=
f oars, and thumping rowlocks. Here they came--straight towards him! Then w=
ith a start he recollected: the privateer' s boat would be pursuing; this w=
as coming to meet him. Had he been swimming round and round like a drowning=
dog? No. Behind him he could hear shouts and orders on the privateer as th=
e crew jumped into the boat. This must be some other craft. It was coming f=
rom the land, and a landsman was rowing it. He could tell by the uneven spl=
ash of the oars, the slish along the surface as a crab was caught, and the =
muffled curse as the man recovered himself. Could it be the Parson come to =
his assistance? The question answered itself. The bows of a boat thrust on =
him through the mist. He saw a man' s back, giving to his stroke. " Hi=
!" he gasped, the boat' s nose hard on top of him. The rower glanced r=
ound. There was no mistaking that falcon-face. It was the Gentleman. II &qu=
ot; Who' s there?" peering suspiciously. " Boy Hoad, powder-monke=
y o the _Dreadnought_." " Is that the _Dreadnought_?" sharpl=
y. " _Dreadnought_, forty-four. Oi' m drownin, sir. Take us in." =
His hand was on the boat' s gunwale. " What the deuce you doing here?&=
quot; " Desartin, sir. They was for floggin me at sun-up." "=
What for?" " For--for fun." " _For what_?" "=
For funk, sir," panted the boy, recovering. " Oi don' t care for=
being shotted. So when the guns begins to bang, Oi goos to bed." The =
Gentleman threw back his head and ran off into laughter. " You' re the=
right sort, Mr. Toad. Come on board by all means. But for you and your lik=
es the world' d be a dull place." Kit clambered in. " What' s tha=
t bag?" asked the Gentleman, swift as a sword. " Duds," repl=
ied the boy as swift. The Gentleman, sitting still as death, stared. It was=
an appalling moment. The boy could not face those eyes. He looked behind h=
im. As he did so, the mist above drifted away, and the Union Jack at the fo=
retop of the privateer floated out. " There' s her colours!" he p=
anted. " By Jove, you' re right," cried the Gentleman, and began =
to row the boat clumsily about. " Stop that hole in the bottom with yo=
ur foot, will you?" The boat was water-logged and filling fast. The wa=
ter was already over the Gentleman' s spurs. Down on his knees the boy bale=
d for his life. Behind him he heard a word of command: then the splash of o=
ars, and the regular thump of rowlocks. The privateer' s boat was away--a t=
en- oared galley from the sound of her, and they were driving her. " R=
ow, sir, row!" urged the boy. " They' re after us!" The Gent=
leman flung back into his oars. Kit could not but admire him. He was rowing=
, as he believed, against death. The boat was sodden; he could not row; and=
the pursuers were coming up hand over hand. Yet his eyes danced, as he gas=
ped, " This is life." The boy was looking behind him. He could no=
t see the pursuing boat, but he could hear the sizzle of foam under her kee=
l as she slipped through the water, and the rhythmical sweep of oars. There=
was a terrible beauty about it--this swooping of Death on them out of the =
fog. He could hear the wings he could not see. She was close now, the Angel=
of the Swarthy Pinions. On the thwart lay a pistol. He snatched it. "=
Good boy!" panted the Gentleman. Kit glanced forward. He could see th=
e loom of the land. " There' s the shore, sir!" he cried. " =
And here are they!" gasped the other. " Pretty thing, by Jove!&qu=
ot; A boat' s bows shot up behind them. A figure was standing in the stern.=
" _Les voila_!" screamed a voice. The Gentleman threw up his oar=
s. " French!" Kit clapped the pistol to his head. " Row!&quo=
t; he screamed. " Row!" The other tumbled back into his oars. Up =
sprang his foot. The pistol was kicked out of the boy' s hand, and the Gent=
leman was on him. " O, you are a villain, Little Chap!" chuckled =
a voice in the lad' s ear. For a moment they hugged, the boat rocking benea=
th them. " Can you swim?" came the voice at his ear. " Yes,&=
quot; gurgled the lad, and as he felt the boat going sucked in a breath. &q=
uot; Then shift for yourself. I can' t." As the waters closed about th=
em the arms of the Gentleman loosed their hold. CHAPTER XLIII A BLACK BORDE=
RER TO THE RESCUE I A boy was wading shoreward dizzily. As he surged throug=
h the water, his body made long rippling waves. He watched them with dull f=
ascination, pointing. Then he began to whimper peevishly. He was tired, he =
was cold. The shore waved up and down before his eyes. He knew he couldn' t=
do it. From behind him a yell penetrated his dying mind. It stopped him de=
ad. He was a little child, nightmare-bound. Waving to and fro, the water to=
his knees, he stretched both arms shoreward. " Mother!" he waile=
d. A shout answered him. Some one was crashing down the shingle, racing acr=
oss the sand, and plunging through the water towards him. The boy began to =
titter. " Come on, Kit! come on!" came a rousing voice. " Do=
n' t look behind you! That' s the style! Come on!" What was this black=
splashing figure, sword in hand? Was it the Angel of Death in full regimen=
tals? Surely he recognised the face beneath the shako? " You aren' t m=
other," the boy giggled, swaying. A strong arm was round him; a body, =
firm and full of life, was pressed against his dying one; a voice, quickeni=
ng as the Spring, was in his ear. " Splendid, Kit! Well done indeed! L=
ean on me. Lots o time." " Have the soldiers come?" sobbed t=
he boy, struggling forward. " One has," came the sturdy voice--&q=
uot; a Black Borderer." They waded through the shallows, the ripples b=
reaking prettily about them. Behind them a fierce voice sang out an order. =
The galley, which had brought up with a bump against the submerged longboat=
, had hoisted the Gentleman on board, and was swooping in pursuit. The boy =
heard the beat of the oars, and sank on his knees at the edge of the sea. &=
quot; I can' t, sir. Take the bag. O go on!" Two strong arms clutched =
him, and he was hoisted up. All things were swimming away from him. The las=
t thing he knew was that he was in somebody' s arms, and the somebody was r=
unning. II The boat swept shoreward. A man with a musket, standing in the b=
ows, was about to fire at the fugitives. A sharp voice stayed him. " _=
Ne tirez point! Nous les prendrons vivants. Ce n' est qu' un seul homme et =
le gosse._" A bugle from the shingle-bank retorted defiantly. " _=
Halte!_" The boat stopped short. The crew looked over their shoulders.=
_" Les soldats!" _ Upon the ridge a shako bobbed up. A figure in=
uniform rose and ran at it " Keep your eads down there all along the =
line!" it shouted. " Wait till I give the word, Royal Stand-backs=
" The Gentleman sprang up in the boat. _" Ramez toujours, mes en=
fants!_" he cried. " _C' est une ruse!_" The men hung on the=
ir oars. " _Laches!_" cried the Gentleman, smote the man on the f=
oremost thwart a buffet, and leaping overboard floundered through the water=
The man in the bows fired. There was no reply from the shingle-bank. The =
men of the galley took courage. The boat swished through the shallows, and =
bumped ashore. Out tumbled her crew, and stormed across the sand at the hee=
ls of the Gentleman. The Parson was staggering up the shingle-bank, the boy=
in his arms. At the top he paused, heaving like an earthquake, and looked =
back on his scampering pursuers. " Yes, my beauties," he panted. =
" You just won' t do it." Knapp, keen as a terrier, bobbed up at =
his side. " Shall I charge em, sir?" his little brown eyes bursti=
ng with desire-- " me and the boy. Down the ill and into em plippety-p=
lumpety-plop! O for God' s sake, sir!" whimpering, dancing. " Ave=
mercy as you ope for it. Let me ave me smack if it' s only for the glory o=
f the old rigiment." " Certainly not," said the Parson stern=
ly. " This is war, not tomfoolery." The little man collapsed sull=
enly. " _From the right--retire by companies--on your sup-ports!_"=
; shouted the Parson in measured regimental voice. From his manner he might=
have been addressing a Brigade and not merely Blob, disguised in an ancien=
t shako, lying on his stomach, and armed with a hay-rake. III He plunged do=
wn the bank. As he reached the greensward a warning shout from the cottage =
reached him. " Ha! what' s this?" joggled the Parson sharply. &qu=
ot; Flank attack! who the pest? Oh, Gap Gang--I forgot." A stream of f=
ierce dark figures with running legs poured down the Wish and across the gr=
eensward at him. " Hold tight round my neck, Kit!" he panted, tau=
t to meet the new attack. " I want my sword-arm free. What! the boy' s=
fainted!" He gave the limp body a hoist on his shoulder. " Now, =
Knapp! Let' s see these guts o yours!" Knapp shot by him, his arms wor=
king like piston-rods. " Come on, Blob, me boy. Slaughder for somebody=
!" He pranced into action, throwing his legs like a hackney trotter. &=
quot; Pray, duckie darlins, pray!" he called. " I' m a-comin! I' =
m a-comin! I' m a-comin!" The life was bursting out of him. It made hi=
m laughing-mad. He was lusty as a young lion. " Here they come!" =
muttered the Parson, labouring behind. And come they did at a hound-slink, =
bunched together, and babbling. It was clear they were uncertain of each ot=
her and of success. Sin, the mighty Disintegrator, was at work upon their s=
pirits. A more half- hearted crew of blackguards never attempted murder. Th=
ey needed Black Diamond. He, and he alone, might have held them and swung t=
hem, as a fine horseman holds and swings a refuser at a fence. And what dar=
k faces! what dreadful eyes! what voices popping up like foul bubbles from =
a sewage pond! _" Them three all?" " Enough too, ain' t it?&=
quot; " I' m for gain back. Look at the face on that buster with the s=
word!" " H' into em!" _ came a shrill treble from the rear. =
_" Cheerily, chaps, cheerily!" _ A crack from the cottage, the cr=
ack of doom. The leading ruffian, a lumbering great horse-faced fellow, cla=
pped his hand to his side. _" What' s that?" _ he snapped. _"=
; That' s death!" _ came a solemn voice from across the green. The man=
bowed his head as though in acknowledgement. _" I got it," _ he =
said, and fell like a falling tower. His fellows wavered. This sudden arrow=
from the quiver of the Great Bowman, so unexpected expected, pierced the h=
earts of all. Into them, toppling, bowled Knapp like a cannon-ball. " =
_Ow,_ dear! _Ow' s_ that? _Ow,_ my pore face!" The chirpy Cockney voic=
e popped out from the thick of them like a cork from a bottle, and a smack =
from a sledge-hammer fist punctuated each ow. Blob, at a lurching gallop, p=
lunged into the opening his leader had made, flashing his knife with a gurg=
ling " Ho! ho!" Last came the Parson with terrific sword. It was =
all over before it had begun: a scuffle, a squeak, the flicker and tinkle o=
f steel; and the cloud burst and scattered into its component drops. The sm=
ugglers scampered away. The Parson was wiping the point of his sword on a m=
an. " Dirty skunks!" he panted. " Had their bellyful before =
I' d begun." Blob was laughing to himself. " Oi loike killin,&quo=
t; he gurgled. " It goos in so plop-loike." A figure, tall and bl=
ack as a winter tree, shot up against the light on the shingle-bank, and hu=
ng a second there. The Parson waved. " Too late, Monsieur le Poseur,&q=
uot; he called mockingly. " Better luck next time." The little pa=
rty trotted across to the cottage, and entered. Piper, awaiting them, slamm=
ed the door, and made all fast. " Near thing, sir," chuckled the =
old man. " Would have been but for that shot of yours," said the =
Parson, laying his burthen on the bed. He leaned up against the wall, and p=
anted, his good red face dripping. " First round to England--eh?"=
he grinned. BOOK III FORT FLINT I BESIEGED CHAPTER XLIV THE ENGLISHMAN All=
was dark within the kitchen of the cottage. Spears of white light piercing=
the gloom told of day without. The cottage was fast as a fortress. Stout p=
lanks were nailed across either door. Heavy shutters darkened the windows. =
Through a loop-hole a stream of light poured in on Nelson' s old foretop-ma=
n. Horn spectacles hung on his nose. His eyes were down, the silver head er=
ect and drawn back. At arm' s length beneath him he held a great Book in a =
splash of light. He was reading aloud, spelling out the words, as does a ch=
ild, and following with huge finger. Outside a musket cracked; a bullet wan=
ged against the wall; there was the crisp trickle of dislodged mortar. Stil=
l muttering, the old man closed his Book, and removed his spectacles. Then =
he slewed his chair round to the loop-hole, and felt for his musket. The li=
ght poured in upon the moon-washed head, the noble brow, and calm eyes peer=
ing forth. Deliberately the old man moved his head to and fro, searching th=
e offender. Then the musket went to his shoulder, cheek hugged stock, the f=
ace grew set. The mystic had turned man of action. There was a flash in the=
darkness, a smother of white in the room, and outside a sudden sobbing cry=
A hand waved in the cloud, and out of it a still voice said, " He wu=
n' t trouble no more." The old man leant his reeking musket against th=
e wall, and took up his Book tranquilly. CHAPTER XLV THE PARSON AT HOME I A=
clap of thunder, followed by a monstrous hissing overhead, awoke Kit from =
dreams of blackberrying with Gwen in the dew-white dawn. He started up. &qu=
ot; What' s that?" he cried, seeking his mind. " The privateer ba=
rking good-bye, sir," came old Piper' s voice from across the room. &q=
uot; She' s stood in with the tide, and had a slap with her bow-chaser. Now=
she' s going about." The memories swooped back on Kit; Nelson, the de=
spatches, the swim in the dark. In a moment he was at the loop-hole, peerin=
g over the old man' s shoulder. On these in the sunshine he saw the brown-p=
atched sails of the privateer lifted ladder-like from behind the shingle-ba=
nk, and strangely close. Then her bows slid into view, and he realised that=
she was standing out to sea: The boy' s heart soared. They were free! A gr=
eat hand pulled him gently back from the loop-hole. " By your leave, s=
ir. They' ve a marksman on the knoll keeps on a-peckin at us." The boy=
' s heart sank. " Then we _aren' t_ free?" " Oh, no, sir. Al=
l round us, sir--a cord on em, Muster Joy calls it, soldier-fashion." =
From above the Parson' s cheery voice rang out. " So she' s left you i=
n the lurch, my lord. That comes o trusting to a Frenchman." Piper chu=
ckled. " Muster Joy and the Gentleman! Must keep on a-chaffin. At it a=
ll day yesterday they was, atween scrimmages." A gay voice came sailin=
g back from the open. " Ah, Reverend Father, good morning! Yes, you mu=
st excuse her for the moment. She has an engagement to keep round the corne=
r to-morrow." " To-morrow!" echoed Kit, aghast. " Piper=
! how long have I been asleep?" " Why, sir, you' ve slept round t=
he clock and a bit more. It' s nigh noon of what was to-morrow when you tur=
ned in." No wonder he was hungry; no wonder he was fresh; no wonder th=
at sound of hammering, which had disturbed him as he passed from a half-swo=
on into sleep, seemed so far off. " Wednesday! Then to-morrow' s Thurs=
day!" he cried, rushing into his clothes. " O Nelson!" and h=
e raced up the ladder. The loft was full of light, dazzling after the twili=
ght of the kitchen. II A mattress, stuffed clumsily in the seaward window, =
half blocked it. In the dormer looking towards the Downs, two biscuit-boxes=
crammed with earth sat on the sill, forming a rough head-cover. Behind the=
se Knapp sprawled on his stomach. Beside him was a wooden porringer full of=
bullets, and a basin of black powder; in his hand a musket. In a cobweb co=
rner by a barrel, Blob crouched covetously; while beside the mattress-curta=
in sat the Parson in his shirt-sleeves, furbishing Polly, and pausing every=
now and then to spy out through the bulges. As Kit clambered on to the flo=
or, the Parson turned, his blue eyes merry, and curls a-ripple. " Ah, =
Kit, my boy, how are you?" " Alive and well, sir, thanks to you. =
And you, sir?" " I!" laughed the Parson. " I' m another=
man." A bullet whizzed by. The Parson listened sentimentally. " =
That' s the music!" raising his face with a rapt smile. " Always =
makes me think of angels' wings." He seemed to have grown, body and so=
ul. His eyes shone, his cheeks glowed; he was crisp as a rimy apple. Kit fe=
lt the change. Responsibility, the searcher out of souls, had exhilarated a=
nd sobered the man. He was graver yet gayer, inspiring and inspired. "=
Duck up aloft!" came a sudden roar from beneath. The Parson smote Kit=
a blow on the chest that sent him staggering back against the wall. A bull=
et whistled in at one window and out at the other. The Parson crawled acros=
s to Knapp, lying on his face, and dealt him a tremendous buffet. " Do=
g!" he thundered. " Why don' t you shout?" The little man' s=
body leapt to the blow, but he made no answer. " Go below!" orde=
red the Parson savagely. " What' s the good of you? I set you there to=
warn us and all you can do is to grovel on your stomach and snivel." =
The little Cockney rose without a word and crept away, his tail between his=
legs. Kit saw his face. One eye was black; and his face was so woebegone t=
hat but for the misery in it Kit would have smiled. " Their shooting i=
s exquisite," said the Parson with professional delight. " You ca=
n' t show a finger.... They' ve nearly had Blob already --ain' t they, Blob=
?" Blob, cuddling in the corner, shook his head cunningly. " Oi' =
ve had them," he said. " Three pennorth of em," pointing to =
the little pile of coppers at his side. " I' m giving him a penny apie=
ce for each Gang-er he gets, and twice the money for a Frenchman," the=
Parson explained. " It stimulates effort," he added, prim as a p=
edagogue, but with twinkling eye. " And now, Kit, your story." CH=
APTER XLVI THE PARSON' S STORY Swiftly the boy told his tale. " But fo=
r you and the soldiers," he ended.... " There were no soldiers,&q=
uot; answered the Parson curtly. " What, sir!--I thought!--some men in=
shakos behind the bank--the men Knapp brought." The Parson ground his=
teeth. " Knapp brought no men. He got as far as the Lamb in Eastbourn=
e on the hill yonder, and there he got playing the fool, and sneaked back h=
ere about twenty minutes after you were gone with a pair of black eyes and =
a pack of lies and nothing else." All the ruddiness had left his face.=
It was grey as steel and dark. " I tried him by drum-head court-marti=
al then and there, for misconduct in the presence of the enemy. I was the P=
resident, Piper the Court. The Court found him guilty and sentenced him to =
be shot. I confirmed the sentence, and proceeded to carry it out." He =
rapped the words out clean and clear. Kit felt himself seeing this man with=
new eyes, the eyes of a great respect. The fellow schoolboy of yesterday h=
ad turned into the man of war, stern and terrible. Kit was afraid of him. &=
quot; There was nothing to wait for," continued the Parson. " So =
I had him out and made him dig his own grave against the wall. " ' It'=
s blanky ard,' said he. " ' You' re a soldier; and this is war,' I an=
swered. ' I' m going to count two--then fire. Make your peace with your Mak=
er.' " I hadn' t got to two, when I heard a hubbub on the privateer, a=
nd knew you were either caught or in difficulties. " ' This can wait,'=
I said. ' I' ll use you first, and shoot you afterwards!' " The blood=
stole back to the Parson' s face. His eyes lifted, twinkling now. " I=
t' s resource that makes the soldier, you know, Kit. I slipped into my old =
regimentals, gave Knapp his bugle, clapped a shako on Blob' s head, and put=
the two of them behind the shingle-bank to act as a skeleton-force.... And=
you know the rest." Kit gazed at the square-set figure before him wit=
h respectful admiration. " It must have been a close thing, sir."=
The Parson shrugged. " It would have been a mere bagatelle but for th=
e Gap Gang cutting in on our line of retreat. That added interest, and made=
a bright little affair of what would otherwise have been a dull retirement=
" " And how did the Gap Gang come to cut in?" " Oh, th=
at' s easily explained.... " At midnight I went out to beat em up--cre=
pt along under the cliff past Holy Well. When I got to Cow Gap, there were =
my friends lying on their backs in a bunch, snoring like so many sows, and =
the boat beached beneath em. I believe I could have killed the lot then and=
there, and nobody the wiser; but I wasn' t going to soil my hands with the=
cold blood of those swine. So I just jumped into the boat, and got to work=
at once--put my heel through her bottom, and was just tearing up a plank, =
when the noise wakes old Red Beard. " ' Who the blank' s that?' he gro=
wled, sitting up in the moonlight. " ' Why,' says I, tearing away, ' t=
he gentleman you' re good enough to call the blankety Parson.' " ' The=
n guess we' ve got you, sir,' says he, and comes down the beach at me at th=
e double. " ' Think so?' says I, jumping out to meet him. " ' Twe=
nty to one, sir!' says he. ' Chuck it up.' " ' Pardon,' says I, ' nine=
teen to one, I think,' and downs him with my left. O, such a beauty! flop i=
n the mug. " They were all awake by this of course; and there was a li=
ttle bit of trouble. I wasn' t going to ask my sweet lady to soil her lips =
on those mucky blackguards, so I kept dodging away before them, just doing =
enough with my dukes to keep them amused. They were no more good than a mob=
of cattle, you see--drunk with sleep and liquor, the lot of em. " ' O=
ut knives, boys, and finish the blank!' says old Toadie. " And pon my =
soul they came on so hot I don' t know what mightn' t have happened, when a=
ll of a sudden, " ' The boat!' screams Fat George from behind. ' Some =
blankety blank' s at the boat.' " And sure enough there was a long-leg=
ged chap launching the boat. In he jumped, shoved her off, and lay on his o=
ars, lookin at em, as they came running along the edge of the sea." Th=
e Parson threw back his jolly head. " Laugh, Kit!--I never saw a fello=
w laugh as he did. I roared to see him. And all the while those chaps were =
skipping about on the shore, howling like lunatics. You never heard such a =
row. Then Fat George, when he saw it was all up, tried the leary lay. "=
; ' I know it' s just a joke o the Genelman' s,' says he in that greasy- wh=
eazy voice of his. " ' That' s just it, George,' the other calls acros=
s the water, ' and the best joke I' ve enjoyed since I saw Black Diamond br=
and you with the hot iron you' d just branded the lugger' s kitten with.' &=
quot; ' What I mean,' whines Fat George, ' you wouldn' t go for to leave a =
lot o pore blokes on a dead foul lee-shore--what got there through trying t=
o sarve you.' " ' Sarve me!' says the Gentleman. ' Yes, Garge, my fait=
hful friend-- sarve me in the back with two fut o carvin-knife, while I was=
chattin with Garge' s pals.' " At that Fat George snatches the musket=
and pulls. " I heard the click of the hammer, but there was never so =
much as a flash in a pan. " ' Thank you, thank you, Fatty, my friend,'=
says the French feller. ' But you know you' d make better shooting, if I h=
adn' t wetted your priming.' " Then he struck his oars in the water. '=
And now good-night all,' says he. ' Black Diamond was a man, if he was a d=
evil. As to the rest of you, the best I can wish you is a long drop, and a =
rope that runs free. And as for you, Fat George, I won' t forget you in thi=
s world, and God won' t forget you in the next.' " Then he came rowing=
along inside the barrier of rocks to me. " ' I don' t know who you ar=
e, sir,' says he, taking off his hat in his dandified French way, ' but I' =
m sure I owe you my best thanks. If it hadn' t been for you, I hardly know =
how I should have managed.' " Well, of course I knew very well who he =
was, and what he was after. But I knew the boat was sinking, and I saw he c=
ouldn' t row. So I never thought he' d reach the ship. Still the longer I k=
ept him talking, the better your chance. So-- " ' You' re very welcome=
, sir,' says I. ' Won' t you step ashore and thank me in person?' " ' =
I' m grieved to the heart,' says he, ' but I must postpone that pleasure ti=
ll another day. Perhaps we shall meet again. I hope to return in a few week=
s--not alone next time.' " ' Quite so,' thinks I, ' at the head of the=
Army of England. No you don' t, my fine fellow, not if I can keep you mess=
ing about there a few minutes longer.' " ' And perhaps we have met bef=
ore,' says I, taking off my hat. " He peered at me in the moonlight. &=
quot; ' What!' he cries--' not my old friend, Black Cock, again?' " ' =
The same at your service,' says I, ' still waiting to have his comb cut.' &=
quot; ' This is a great happiness,' says he, very earnest, and paddles in a=
bit. " ' It' s mutual,' says I. ' And if you' ve quite done posing wo=
n' t you step ashore and let us consummate our joy? A sweet stretch of sand=
, and a lovely light.' " Pon my soul for a moment I thought he would. =
Then, " ' I can' t to-day, bad cess to it,' says he. ' Tell you the tr=
uth I' m in the devil' s own hurry. Got an interview with his Sacred Majest=
y, our noble Emperor, whom may Heaven preserve, at twelve noon to-morrow. A=
nd if I don' t keep it, I stand to lose a lot o little things--my head amon=
g em. I' m in disgrace, you see--always have been from a child!' " He =
lifts his sword to his lips, quite the play-actor. " ' But here' s to =
our next merry meeting, sir.' " ' And may it be soon, Monsieur le Pose=
ur,' says I, answering his salute. " And it' s proved sooner than eith=
er of us expected. There' s he: here' m I. One side this wall the first lig=
ht cavalryman in Europe, ' tother-- Harry Joy, ex-Captain of British infant=
ry. Now we' ve got to see which is the better man." He squared his sho=
ulders. Whoever else might find the situation unsatisfactory it was not Par=
son Joy. CHAPTER XLVII THE DESPATCH-BAG I " That is the first part of =
the story, and the least," said the Parson. " And while I' m tell=
ing you the rest you' d better have some grub." He reached up to a raf=
ter. " I keep the tackle up here out of Blob' s way. The boy' s all be=
lly-- ain' t you, you young shark?" Blob stroked his waist feelingly. =
" She kips on a-talkin," he purred. " She dawn' t get much a=
nswer though." " Well, don' t eat that candle anyway, you little =
glutton!" " Oi warn' t eatin it," said Blob, aggrieved. &quo=
t; Oi were suckin it." The Parson arranged what food there was on the =
floor. ' " Honour and salt-beef--campaigners' fare!' as Nelson used to=
say in Corsica.... " And while you' re at that, I' ll get on with my =
story." </p>=20
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