The Pirate City, page 159 by Robert Michael Ballantyne
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ts head in the ample pouch of his pea-jacket.
As he proceeded up the valley, and, gradually passing from the broad road which had been formed by Christian slaves, to the narrow path at its somewhat rugged head, which had been made by goats, he grew more careless in his walk and rollicking in his air. At last he began to smile benignantly, and to address to himself a running commentary on things in general.
"You've got a fine time of it here all to yersilf, Mister Flaggan. Ah, it's little the Dey knows what yer after, me boy, or it's the last day ye'd have to call yer own. Well, now, it's more like a drame than anything I knows on. What wid Turks an' Moors an' Jews, an' white slaves of every lingo under the sun, I can't rightly make out to remimber which it is--Europe, Asia, Afriky, or Ameriky--that I'm livin' in! Never mind, yer all right wid that blissid cownsl at yer back, an' this purty little thing in yer pokit."
He became silent, and seemed a little perplexed at this point, looking about as if in search of something.
"Coorious; I thought it was here I left it; but I niver had a good mimory for locality. Och! the number of times I was used to miss the way to school in Ould Ireland, though I thravelled it so often and knowed it so well! Surely an' it worn't under this rock I putt it, it must have bin under a relation. Faix, an' it was. Here ye are, me hearty, come along--hoop!"
Saying this, he gave a powerful tug at something under the rock in question, and drew forth a canvas bag or wallet, which had the appearance of being well filled.
Slinging this across his shoulder, Ted Flaggan pursued his way, moralising as he went, until he came to a rugged hollow among the hills, in which was a chaos of large stones, mingled with scrubby bushes. Here he paused again, and the wrinkles of perplexity returned to his brow, as he peered hither and thither.
Presently he observed a sharp-edged rock, which, projecting upwards, touched, as it were, the sky-line behind it. Moving