Cornwall (England : County) -- Fiction; Treasure troves -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- England -- Fiction
"But what puzzles me," went on Mrs Polsue, "is how that Nanjivell
found the pluck. Every one knows him for next door to a pauper: and
yet he spoke up, as if he had pounds an' to spare."
"Perhaps you irritated him," suggested Miss Oliver. "Everybody knows
that, poor as folks may be, if you try to set them right beyond a
certain point--"
The two ladies, in this amiable converse, had drawn near to the
bridge-end. They were suddenly aware of a party of six soldiers in
khaki, headed by a corporal, advancing over the bridge in file.
Each pair of soldiers carried between them a heavy sack, swinging it
slowly as they marched.
The ladies drew aside, curious. The soldiers halted in front of the
Old Doctor's House. The corporal--a stout man--walked into the
porch-way and knocked.
Mrs Penhaligon answered the knock, and after a short colloquy was
heard to call back into the passage summoning Mr Nanjivell.
In half a minute Nicky-Nan hobbled out. Meanwhile, their passage
over the bridge being clear ahead, our two ladies had no good excuse
for lingering. Yet they lingered. When all was said and done, no
such sight as that of seven soldiers in khaki had been witnessed in
Polpier within living memory. The child population of Polpier was
indoors, expectant of dinner; and the squad missed the compliment of
attention that would certainly have been paid it ten minutes earlier
or an hour later.
"Here are your spuds," announced Corporal Sandercock, "with the
Commandin' Officer's compliments." He paused, seemingly in wrestle
with an inward reluctance. He plunged his right hand into his
breeches pocket. "And here," said he, "be two sovereigns picked up
in addition to the one you dropped this mornin'. It softens my
surprise a bit," Corporal Sandercock added, "now that I see the house
you occupy, and," with a glance at Mrs Penhaligon--"the style you
maintain. But for a man o' seemin'ly close habits, you're terribly
flippant with your loose gold."
CHAPTER XVIII.
FEATHERS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account