The Maid of SkerBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Maid of Sker
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Foundlings -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Wales -- Fiction
"Keep your position, sir," he answered, in a tone which frightened me;
it was not violent, but so deep. "And now for your scale of wages. Of
course, being opposite that old house, you would watch it without any
orders. The only trouble I give you is this--when the tide runs up after
dark, and smooth water lets vessels over the bar, you will have to
loosen your boat or dingy, punt, or whatever you call her, and pull
across the river, and lie in a shaded corner which you will find below
Narnton Court, and commanding a view of it. Have you firearms? Then take
this. The stock is hollow, and contains six charges. You can shoot; I am
sure of that. I know a poacher by his eyelids."
He gave me a heavy two-barrelled pistol, long enough for a gun almost,
and meant to be fired from the shoulder. Then pressing a spring in the
stock, he laid bare a chamber containing some ammunition, as well as a
couple of spare flints. He was going to teach me how to load it, till I
told him that I had been captain of cannon, and perhaps the best shot in
the royal navy.
"Then don't shoot yourself," he said, "as most of the old sailors have
reason to do. But now you will earn your living well, what with your
wages on board the schooner and the crown a-week I shall give you."
"A crown a-week, your reverence!" My countenance must have fallen sadly;
for I looked to a guinea a-week at least. "And to have to stay out of my
bed like that!"
"It is a large sum, I know, Llewellyn. But you must do your best to earn
it, by diligence and alacrity. I could have sent one of my fine naked
fellows, and of course not have paid him anything. But the fools near
the towns are so fidgety now that they stare at these honest Adamites,
and talk of them--which would defeat my purpose. Be off with you! I must
go and see them. Nothing else refreshes me after talking so long to a
fellow like you. Here are two guineas for you--one in advance for your
first month's wage; the other you will keep until I have done with you,
and then return it to me."
"A month, your honour!" I cried in dismay. "I never could stop in this
country a month. Why, a week of it would be enough to drive me out of my
mind almost."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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