"Duffy!" says the Sergeant, "do you want to earn a shilling? If you do,
come along with me. Keep the pony-chaise ready, Mr. Betteredge, till I
come back."
He started for the Shivering Sand, at a rate that my legs (though well
enough preserved for my time of life) had no hope of matching. Little
Duffy, as the way is with the young savages in our parts when they are
in high spirits, gave a howl, and trotted off at the Sergeant's heels.
Here again, I find it impossible to give anything like a clear account
of the state of my mind in the interval after Sergeant Cuff had left
us. A curious and stupefying restlessness got possession of me. I did
a dozen different needless things in and out of the house, not one of
which I can now remember. I don't even know how long it was after the
Sergeant had gone to the sands, when Duffy came running back with a
message for me. Sergeant Cuff had given the boy a leaf torn out of his
pocket-book, on which was written in pencil, "Send me one of Rosanna
Spearman's boots, and be quick about it."
I despatched the first woman-servant I could find to Rosanna's room; and
I sent the boy back to say that I myself would follow him with the boot.
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