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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"


'A fine nicht, capt'n,' said Robert.
'It does rain,' returned the captain. 'Will you come on board and
have one schnapps before you turn in?'
'I hae a frien' wi' me here,' said Robert, feeling his way.
'Let him come and be welcomed.'
Ericson making no objection, they went on board, and down into the
neat little cabin, which was all the roomier for the straightness of
the vessel's quarter. The captain got out a square,
coffin-shouldered bottle, and having respect to the condition of
their garments, neither of the young men refused his hospitality,
though Robert did feel a little compunction at the thought of the
horror it would have caused his grandmother. Then the Dutchman got
out his violin and asked Robert to play a Scotch air. But in the
middle of it his eyes fell on Ericson, and he stopped at once.
Ericson was sitting on a locker, leaning back against the side of
the vessel: his eyes were open and fixed, and he seemed quite
unconscious of what was passing. Robert fancied at first that the
hollands he had taken had gone to his head, but he saw at the same
moment, from his glass, that he had scarcely tasted the spirit. In
great alarm they tried to rouse him, and at length succeeded. He
closed his eyes, opened them again, rose up, and was going away.
'What's the maitter wi' ye, Mr. Ericson?' said Robert, in distress.
'Nothing, nothing,' answered Ericson, in a strange voice. 'I fell
asleep, I believe.


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