ship in some church or other in Scotland which is nothing more now than a blessed rooky cairn; and, fancy, the fellow is trying to oblige me to relinquish my claim, or pray on that Scotch stone pile! And I say," he grieved righteously, "fancy, can you, one waiting in Scotland at this season for the rain to stop for a service!"
The American laughed in sympathy.
"Ah! And you, Mr. Preston," the Englishman asked again with reciprocal concern, "how have you been, I say; and what are you about now?"
"I came down here from Tavistock yesterday, Mr. Dunneston," the American replied, "thinking I could get a cabin for home; but I can't say exactly what I am about, now."
"What? From Tavistock—yesterday?" the Englishman inquired carefully.
"Yes; why?" Preston asked.
"Oh, nothing much, probably," the Briton put him off. "But tell me, what did you mean by not knowing what you're about now?"
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