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Marjorie   By: (1860-1936)

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First Page:

MARJORIE

BY

Justin Huntly McCarthy

Author of "IF I WERE KING"

Oh Marjorie, my world's delight Your yellow hair is angel bright, Your eyes are angel blue. I thought, and think, the sweetest sight Between the morning and the night Is just the sight of you.

New York

R. H. RUSSELL

1903

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY R. H. RUSSELL

First Impression, March, 1903

[Illustration]

To

ANTHONY HOPE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. MY APOLOGY 1

II. LANCELOT AMBER 7

III. THE ALEHOUSE BY THE RIVER 15

IV. A MAID CALLED BARBARA 29

V. LANCELOT LEAVES 38

VI. THE GENTLEMAN IN BLUE 54

VII. CAPTAIN MARMADUKE'S PLAN 62

VIII. THE COMPANY AT THE NOBLE ROSE 68

IX. THE TALK IN THE DOLPHIN 72

X. SHE COMES DOWN THE STAIRS 81

XI. A FEAST OF THE GODS 87

XII. MR. DAVIES'S GIFTS 91

XIII. TO THE SEA 100

XIV. THE SEA LIFE 105

XV. UTOPIA HO! 113

XVI. I MAKE A DISCOVERY 117

XVII. A VISITATION 126

XVIII. THE NIGHT AND MORNING 134

XIX. HOW SOME OF US GOT TO THE ISLAND 145

XX. A BAD NIGHT 155

XXI. RAFTS 163

XXII. WE LOSE CORNELYS JENSEN 168

XXIII. WE GET TO THE ISLAND 179

XXIV. FAIR ISLAND 190

XXV. THE STORY FROM THE SEA 205

XXVI. THE BUSINESS BEGINS 214

XXVII. AN ILL TALE 232

XXVIII. WE DEFY JENSEN 241

XXIX. THE ATTACK AT LAST 249

XXX. OUR FLAG COMES DOWN 261

XXXI. A PIECE OF DIPLOMACY 268

XXXII. THE SEA GIVES UP ITS QUICK 280

XXXIII. THE LAST OF THE SHIP 290

MARJORIE

CHAPTER I

MY APOLOGY

What I have written may seem to some, who have never tossed an hour on salt water, nor, indeed, tramped far afield on dry land, to be astounding, and well nigh beyond belief. But it is all true none the less, though I found it easier to live through than to set down. I believe that nothing is harder than to tell a plain tale plainly and with precision. Twenty times since I began this narrative I have damned ink and paper heartily after the swearing fashion of the sea, and have wished myself back again in my perils rather than have to write about them.

I was born in Sendennis, in Sussex, and my earliest memories are full of the sound and colour and smell of the sea. It was above all things my parents' wish that I should live a landsman's life. But I was mad for the sea from the first days that I can call to mind.

My parents were people of substance in a way did well with a mercer's shop in the Main Street, and were much looked up to by their neighbours. My mother always would have it that I came through my father of gentle lineage. Indeed, the name I bore, the name of Crowninshield, was not the kind of name that one associates usually with a mercer's business and with the path in life along which my father and mother walked with content. There certainly had been old families of Crowninshields in Sussex and elsewhere, and some of them had bustled in the big wars. There may be plenty of Crowninshields still left for aught I know or care, for I never troubled my head much about my possible ancestors who carried on a field gules an Eastern crown or... Continue reading book >>




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