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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"A Man of Mark"


"Well?" he said.
In the bitterness of my heart I could hardly speak. But I was not
going to play either the cur or the fool, so I said:
"Your trick, sir, and therefore your lead! I must do what you tell
me."
"Honor bright, Martin?"
"Yes," said I; "I give you my word. Take the revolver if you like,"
and I nodded my head to the pocket where it lay.
"No," he said, "I trust you."
"I bar a rescue," said I.
"There will be no rescue," said he grimly.
"If the colonel comes--"
"The colonel won't come," he said. "Whose house is that?"
It was my boatman's.
"Bring her there. Poor child, she suffers!"
We knocked up the boatman, who thus did not get his night's rest after
all. His astonishment may be imagined.
"Have you a bed?" said the President.
"Yes," he stammered, recognizing his interlocutor.
"Then carry her up, Martin; and you, send your wife to her."
I took her up, and laid her gently on the bed. The President followed
me. Then we went downstairs again into the little parlor.
"Let us have a talk," he said; and he added to the man, "Give us some
brandy, quick, and then go."
He was obeyed, and we were left alone with the dim light of a single
candle.


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