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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Master of Appleby A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same Lady"


"Seize him! seize him! he is a rebel spy!" he shrieked, pointing at me.
As you would guess, all talk paused at this dramatic interruption, and
all eyes were turned upon me. Had the little viper been content to rest
his charge upon the simple accusation, I know not what might have
happened. But when he got his breath he burst out in a tirade of the
foulest abuse, cursing me up one side and down the other, and ending in
a gibbering fit of rage that left him pallid and foaming at the
lips--and gave me my cue.
"'Tis the little madman of Queensborough," I said, coolly, explaining to
the bluff major. "His mania takes the form of a curious hatred for me,
though I know not why. Two days since, he was put in arrest by my Lord's
authority for threatening my life and that of his master's daughter.
Now, it would seem, he has broken jail and followed me hither."
"A lunatic, eh? He looks it, every inch," said the major; and the
blackguard lawyer, hearing my counter accusation, was doing his best to
give it a savor of likelihood by fighting frantically with the two
soldiers who had followed him into the tent.
"Out wi' him!" commanded the major. "We've no time to foolish away wi' a
Bedlamite. Take him away and peg him out, and gi' him a dash o' water to
cool his head."
Pengarvin fought like a fury, and his venomous rage defeated all his
attempts to say calmly the words which might have got him a hearing. So
he was haled away, spitting and struggling like a trapped wildcat; and
when we were rid of him the major bade us good night again.


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