Explore "Black Bartlemy's Treasure" by Jeffery Farnol on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The sun being high-risen and myself famished with hunger, I set off for our habitation by paths well-hid from observation and yearning mightily to find my lady there. Having scaled the cliff I reached the little plateau, and parting the bushes, recoiled from the muzzle of a piece levelled at me by a squat, grim fellow.
"What, Godby! " says I, frowning, "D'ye take me for murderer still, then? " At this he let fall his musket in blank amaze, and then came running and with hands outstretched.