[The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves by Tobias Smollett]@TWC D-Link book
The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves

CHAPTER TWO
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He added, that love was the soul of chivalry.
The stranger started at this discourse.

He turned his eyes on the surgeon with a fixed regard; his countenance changed; a torrent of tears gushed down his cheeks; his head sunk upon his bosom; he heaved a profound sigh, and remained in silence with all the external marks of unutterable sorrow.

The company were, in some measure, infected by his despondence, concerning the cause of which, however, they would not venture to inquire.
By this time the landlady, having disposed of the squire, desired to know, with many curtsies, if his honour would not choose to put off his wet garments, assuring him, that she had a very good feather bed at his service, upon which many gentlevolks of the virst quality had lain, that the sheets were well aired, and that Dolly would warm them for his worship with a pan of coals.

This hospitable offer being repeated, he seemed to wake from a trance of grief, arose from his seat, and, bowing courteously to the company, withdrew.
Captain Crowe, whose faculty of speech had been all this time absorbed in amazement, now broke into the conversation with a volley of interjections.

"Split my snatchblock!--Odd's firkin!--Splice my old shoes!--I have sailed the salt seas, brother, since I was no higher than the Triton's taffrel--east, west, north, and south, as the saying is-- Blacks, Indians, Moors, Morattos, and Seapoys;--but, smite my timbers! such a man of war--" Here he was interrupted by his nephew, Tom Clarke, who had disappeared at the knight's first entrance, and now produced himself with an eagerness in his look, while the tears stared in his eyes.--"Lord bless my soul!" cried he, "I know that gentleman, and his servant, as well as I know my own father!--I am his own godson, uncle; he stood for me when he was a boy--yes, indeed, sir, my father was steward to the estate--I may say I was bred up in the family of Sir Everhard Greaves, who has been dead these two years--this is the only son, Sir Launcelot; the best-natured, worthy, generous gentleman--I care not who knows it.


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