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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"The Trumpet-Major"

The rays of the candle
fell upon the vault and sides of a long low cellar, littered with
decayed woodwork from other parts of the hall, among the rest stair-
balusters, carved finials, tracery panels, and wainscoting. But
what most attracted her eye was a small flagstone turned up in the
middle of the floor, a heap of earth beside it, and a
measuring-tape. Derriman went to the corner of the cellar, and
pulled out a clamped box from under the straw. 'You be rather
heavy, my dear, eh?' he said, affectionately addressing the box as
he lifted it. 'But you are going to be put in a safe place, you
know, or that rascal will get hold of ye, and carry ye off and ruin
me.' He then with some difficulty lowered the box into the hole,
raked in the earth upon it, and lowered the flagstone, which he was
a long time in fixing to his satisfaction. Miss Garland, who was
romantically interested, helped him to brush away the fragments of
loose earth; and when he had scattered over the floor a little of
the straw that lay about, they again ascended to upper air.
'Is this all, sir?' said Anne.
'Just a moment longer, honey. Will you come into the great
parlour?'
She followed him thither.
'If anything happens to me while the fighting is going on--it may be
on these very fields--you will know what to do,' he resumed. 'But
first please sit down again, there's a dear, whilst I write what's
in my head. See, there's the best paper, and a new quill that I've
afforded myself for't.


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