Ontario Community Newspapers

Durham Chronicle (1867), 13 Oct 1910, p. 11

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cuffed with dark red brsld. Her 9 white hat was trimmed with vel-‘ or a tone to mstch the bruid. 3nd m- ..__.____E_ _ ,,7__ {neatly fitting brown boots and “‘ m were of the right shsde. Be- th her cost there was s glimpse 3 knitted jersey of soft white wool, being a tribute to the sesson, ugh a winter in Lyonnesse can usu- 4x73 wacery ! ' shrug its comfortable shoulders the deceitful vagaries of the Ri- ‘. Wanted : of green cloth. lightly hemmed fear of being pow Hm! the must o sh ICE A ES. 1) . ~ ...,. yrs-MOM 25c till Jan. lst. "-3 \ a ‘ ‘51 \ w ‘ 00 PER W” Um”. “N... , Tin fisherman and a girl. ”L \ Mm“ DE‘ Lemon“. man was scarred and blistered . .- .. ”find and wave until he mid nt- mm'h outward semblance to MI Severtheleaa. man and bog: reliable. They wen sturdy “mug; antiquated. perhnpo. md y 1;; want of a new cont; but on lines to real-t the elements met for years to come. Ben Pol- md his pilchnrd-dflver. Daisy. Cornish celebrities of note. Not but many time: hnd they been ' immortal -â€" with the annex-tun riuliiy of artâ€"by painter! of the fin school. The girl. an nnlmtod cuneo. to ch the shabby plctnresqueneu 0! Ben in his patched gnu-menu md 9.1" in her unkempt solidity Inp- .. . - flninw hmkzmund- merited E (H‘iTECTIONER o \\ i) “INNER... - Durham It . . c o o .0 Q Q i .0 vol '56 9? 99.0 '0. '0. '0:%+ 7.. {:MM 0 t '. - ozo-go -? «9W ll r, seeing that the mast wee secure- : stepped and the tackle run free. .Alst they worked they tnlked. nnd. course, the critic. listened. “Do you think the weather will hold, Ben?“ asked the girl over her ehoul- r, stooping to arrenge some clue. ters of daffodil: and norcieeue so that they should not suffer by the lurch oi lome heavy pechue when the boot “The glue be n-fnllin’, sure, mieey. hid the old fellow cheerily, “but wi' the wind backin' round to the norrnrd hon'y mean: n drop 0' wet." “You think we will mete the rock in good time?" "\Ve’m do our beet. Min mid." i She at up suddenly. "Don’t you dere tell me. Ben Pol- Imll thet titer ell our prepontione to may heve to turn buck or run for lnglorioue ehelter into Lunornn." Her mock indignation induced I waive grin. “A nnhonny tnble Ming into mirth.” wu Enid'e pri- nte description at Ben’- ince when he That she was a young person of some witime experience was visible to the molsseure above at a glance. She m busily engaged in packing the pacions lockers of the Daley with cer- un stores of applea, oranges and vegetablesâ€"«ranging from the lordly pw potato (an aristocrat at that time Ifthe year“ to the plebeian cabbageâ€"- nd her lithe. active figure moved “‘Ee knuv the count us well .0 boot.“ he uld. “Mar to. atromr Now, 'ee lmuv.” “And not so slow. eh. Ben? My. ‘M wd the Duly look more tubby nary tlme I see you.” Thus dlspcngod. Pollu'd defended llmulf und hll cnft. _ AA-A‘A ””1 " u 1 fitting btckground, morltéd I. am upproval the received from I, pipe-BmOkel‘l. men-haired. blue-eyed, with u face I. delicate. notes-like hetuty which -‘-â€"â€"-â€"â€" £.- A..- ‘1 the {Oct . g from] the boat quay to the pla- ‘fi‘flers of Penance harbor I it“ built Pratt was moored.‘ It Wm Occupants this bright Jun-1 I“ - d they were Inmctent- pearance to ntmct the of the local squad of thnt , y of loungers which seem. FM“ in tobacco-blessed content 1.9 where men so down to I - consisted of n wreath» ituh Aim-easâ€"énfigrdof confla‘ence in the mic principles of gravitation u bdlfled an! unused by u rocking m. Pollard, too, was overhauling his . ‘v--‘ M to its mobile c ' hs 321:8 guiw of s skin bflrgxtftezyed the me opetn tone by sn sbldln “d m an la air. she suggested : love w; (gm-3:311: sftltgiy of tie 201:3; :“rtls little plant wulilggo dsringly name. She wore sm: the _ __ __ _ __ . snd -0.“ ul- v-wâ€"w “Mo un’ may '11 an to Gulf mm quicker’n any two othor tug- !n Pon- nnce. misay. Her be u long run at this time o' yea. but yon'm got them “1 right. I ’xpect. WS’ 3 nomrd sze we'm b. “to own. It the _ A --_.-' .AA Vind makes ’00 (3’1: no at v v '-â€"â€"-â€"c charEdr-h'er would'fiuio Ben tumm- "Al 1! I didn't know ‘11 You Zach me.” she cried, “and u 1 9110 in all Cornwall could tam gum: ushemm wu mouthed. He| led along the quIY. “Time we'm cut of.” h. {our "311:3 Vnnstance be 3 91:03., n‘ time feu'hm' them mp9. 11 t’ “on, Ben. how cm you “I ‘ ‘t; and o.) go all the n! '0 01° 0° . \x‘ny. if she nnâ€"” . “HON! she be.” he 1)ka “‘- “‘n '50 b'aim runnin’ neither. Her'l (Gt ‘founx man in tow." Wha; announcement would finish- in the ”W1“. of any girl 0!- )1!!!ng -3“ 1' ‘~ édiiiit’t‘edeollard, after 151;"? ‘- ~; ware. ”When I look ltndfi 4’1“} "i-‘vs b‘ain’t no good to they ail-“1' '1 Yhis fact regretfully. No 3‘?’*::‘ ~- mug will ever acknowledge 3 ‘5‘ ‘1; vision when he gue- gt the “Hp“ \ ., Ion he known so well. Th1. :rr‘ Y ‘Ii‘ft: of unwilling m; it In so“). '3'”?- The settled cm of the ”’9 bewnden him. The mm in Cannot. 'gweanwhile. the dawdlcrl mm the ".3?" following Entd'u mu- Fm! Met." PILLAR OF LIGHT' M1 Ur'u can? En'id'Trevillion turn- THE SIGNAL. ot of a long flight of stop. n the boat quay to the pla- ot Penance htl’bpt ; ”Ml upright. 1's Jack!” the cried, '37- ‘i hred little hand. IIUI “1,1 Indeed, a great many peOple did ask and this pertinent question; among others, and Lady Margaret Stanhope put it often Be- and pointedly to her son, without any mm cogent answer being forthcoming. or nor tam er. mm, 100, she owed the frank. self-reliant pose of head and clearly cut, refined features which conveyed to others that all-important first good impression. Blended with Stephen Brand’s firm incisiveness, and ! softening the. quiet strength of heri marked resemblance to him, was an essential femininity which lifted her wholly apart from the ruck of hand-. some English girls who find delight in copying the manners an deven the dress of their male friends. i -_ _'â€"â€"â€"v Her costume was an exact replica of that of Enid. She walked well and rapidly, yet her alert carriage had a grace, a subtle elegance. more fre- quently seen in America than in Eng- land. Her lively face, flushed with exercise, and, it may be, with some little excitement, conveyed the same Transatlantic characteristic. One said at seeing her: “Here is a girl who has lived much abroad" It came as a surprise to learn that she had never crossed the Channel. E The skin 6: his face and hands, olive ’tinted with exposure, his dark hair and the curved eyelashes, which ldrooped over his blue eyes. no less .than the artistic proclivities suggest- fed by his well-chiseled features and long. tapering fingers. proclaimed that Stanhope. notwithstanding his Saxon surname and bluff hearing, was a Celt. His mother, in fact. was a ‘Tregarthen of Cornwall, daughter of Cornwall, daughter of a peer. and a leading figure in local society. The man with her, Lieutenant John Percival Stanhope, R.N.. was too tam- iliar a figure in Penzance to evoke muttered co_m_ment from the gallery. A masterful young gentleman he looked, and one accustomed to having his own way in the world, whether in love or war. True type of the British sailor, he had the physique of a strong man and the adveneurously cheerful expression of a boy. One may ask: “Why should a youth of good birth and social position he on such terms of easy familiarity with two girls, one of whom was the daugh- ter of a lighthouse-keeper, and the other her sister by adoption? If she were denied enlightenment. although her maternal anxiety was i'nstiflable, the smokers on the pier, as representing the wider gossip of the town, may also be left unsatisfied. ' “This is a nice thing." he cried. when he came within speaking dis- tance of the girl in the boat. “I manage to bamboozle the admiral out of three days' leave and l rush to Penzance to be told that Constance and you are of! to the Gulf Rock for ,the day. It is too had of you, Enid.” Eyenfowa were raised and silent winks exchanged among the human spayroyg fining the rails. A- ~.. ‘11.... 'r‘w‘é'o‘ Muter jack came to see Miss Trevllllon. eh? What would her lady- ship say it Ibo heard that?" “Why not come with us?" The au- dacity of her. “By Jove." he agreed. “That would be Jolly. Look here. Wait two min- utes until 1 scribble a line to the ma- terâ€" 9". “Nothing of the sort, Jack." inter~ posed the other girl quietly, taking from his arm the water-proof cloaks he was carrying for her. “You know Lsdy Margaret would he very sngry. nnd with very good reason. More- over. dad would be annoyed. too.” “The old girl is going out this at- ternoon." he protested. _-ILL “And the eXpecto you to go with her. Now, Jack, don't let us quarrel before we have met for five minutes. We will see you to-morrow." He helped her down the stone Itepe. “Enid." he murmured, “Connie end you mutt promise to drive with me to Morvnh in the morning. I will call for you at eleven slurp.” “What u pity you enn’t all out to --â€"â€"-__.I- ie 700 dinthnt." The min: lifted her blue eyes to hit with such ingenuous regret in them thht Stenhope hushed and pipes were Ihiited to permit the listeners thou their heed: to nigger hpprovd at her quip. __ “L -A ‘L .- terrupted {3911. Wuuâ€"ly-vâ€" _ -, ‘0 Hello. old grumpus! How are you? Mind you keep these young ladies oi! the stones.” “And mind you keep your tin-pot off the stones,” growled Pollrd. “They was a-sayin' larst night her were aground at Portsea." “They said right, Father Ben. That is why I am here." Enid glanced at him with ready anxiety. There was nothing of the flirt in her manner now “I hope you had no mishap,” she said. and Constance muteiy echoed the inquiry. Both girls knew well what a serious thing it was for a youngster to run his first boat ashore. “Don’t look so glum.” he chuckled. “I am all right. Got a bit of kudos; out of it really. We fouled the Vol- canic and strained our steering gear. That is all." It was not all. He did not mention Pthat, during a torpedo att’ack on a foggy night, he ran up to three bat- tleships undefended by nets and sten- ciled his initials within a white square on five 'digerent parts of their sleek hulls, thus signifying to an indignant admiral and three confoundeducap- 11133 by torpedoes. “It wunds unconvincing,” said Con. ounce. “You must supply details to- morrow. Enid, that horrid pun oil I your: ruins the word.” “Are we 3190 to supply luncheon?” chimed in Enid. “Perish the thought. I hare lived on undwichel 3nd bottled hear for I ne‘ “But what does that young spark .want, turning their pretty heads for 1them, I should like to know?” “They didn’t seem partlc’lar stuck on 'im," ventured another. our: to carry. the boat mm the 'Yalr way of the channel. They neared the harbor lighthouse. The brown sail filled and the Daisy got way on her. Then she sped round the end of the solid pier and vanished, whereupon Lieutenant Stan- hope walked slowly to the Promenade. whence he could see the diminishing speck of canvas on the shining sea until land. At last. the devotees of twist and shag resting their tired arms on the railing, were able to exchange com- ments. » "grace 0’ fine gells, them.” observ- ud the acknowledged leader, a broken- dov.'n “captain” of a mine abandoned soon after his birth. . “Fine," agreed his nearesr. hench- man. Then catching the gloom of the treating figure, he added' “Thé ways of women )8 curious.” pronounced the oracle. . “I once knew a gellâ€"" But his personal reminiscences were not of value. More to the point was the garbled. but, in the main, accurate account he gave of the rescue of an unknown child by one of the keepers of the Gulf Rock light- house on a June morning eighteen years earlier. Stephen Brand was the name of thel man. and there was a bit of a mystery about him. too. They all knew that a light-keeper earned a matter of £70 to £80 a yearâ€"not enough to main- tain a daughter and an adopted child in slap-up style, was it? A small villa they lived in, and a governess they had. and ponies to ride when they were big enough. The thing was ridi- culous. wasn’t it? Everybody agreed that it was. PeOple said Brand was a swell. Well, that might or might not be true. The speaker did not think much of him. He was a quiet, unsociable chap, though Jones, a Trinity pensioner“ who kept the “Pilchard and Seine” now, wouldn’t hear a wrong word about him, and always called him "cap’n." A pretty sort of a captain! But then, they all knew what an old slow-coach Jones was. They did; Pones’s pints were retailed on the pre~ mises for money down. Then there was Spence, lame Jim, who lived at Marazion; he told a fine tale about a fight-with a hark before Bran dreached the boat in which was the blessed babyâ€"that very girl, Enid, they had just seen. Was it true? How could he say? There was a lot about it at the time in the local pa- pers, but just then his own mind was given to the thoughts of enlisting, as. a British expedition was marching‘ across the desert to relieve Khartoum â€"â€"and cause Gordon’s death. No; Brand and the two girls had 'not dwelt all the time in Penzance. The light-keepers went all over the kingdom, you know. but he had hit Iupon some sort of tog-signal fadâ€"â€" 1Brand was always a man of fads; he once told the speaker that all the Polwena Mine wanted was workâ€"and lthe Gulf Rock was the best place for ,trying it. At his own request the l'l‘rinity people sent him back there two years ago. Some folk had queer tastes. hadn’t they? And talking so 'much had made him dry. Then the conversation languished. as the only obvious remark of any importance was _not forthcoming. “-1--- __--.I Laura”- IIIIVVI Vulnvv .. Meanwhile "the _ Daisy sped buoy- antly towards the southwest. Al- she was broad in beam and staunch from thwart to keel. it was no light {undertaking to run fourteen miles out .and home in such a craft. But old Ben Pollard knew what he was about. Not until the granite pil- lar oi the distant Gulf Rock Opened up beyond Carn du was it necessary to turn the boat's head seawards. Even then. by steering close to the Runnelatone, they need not. during two-thirds of the time .be more than a mile or so distant from one of the many creeks in which they could ae- cure shelter in case of a sudden change in the weather. Thgncotorwurd than wu nothing for it but a strulghg rm} _0} 3!: miles .v- -v to the too}. behind which lay Scilly Isles, forty miles away. well below the bash horizon. _ V' v.‘ ~v-v -â€" So when in; inoment come for the final decision to be made, Pollnrd cast an onion: eye at a great bank of cloud mounting high_ in the_ nort_h. . VCv-‘ uâ€"v ‘â€" There was an ominous drop in the temperature, too. The rain he anti- cipated might turn to snow, and snow is own brother to tog at sea, though both are generally absent from the Cornish littoral in winter. “Ben." cried Enid, breaking oi! a vivid it merciless description of a new disciple who had joined the artistic coterie at Newiyn, “what are you looking at ?" He 'scratched his head and gazed fixedly at the white battalians sweep- ing in aqria} coqggst over the land. n L- .J...‘; .uu .- wv- â€"‘â€"â€" . “She do marlâ€"lite gnaw." he admit- ted. “Well, what does that matter?" Without waiting for orders. Con- stance had eased'the helgn a trifle. The Daisy was now fairly headed for the rock. With this breeze she would be there is less than an hour. “It be a bit risky," grumbled Ben. “We will be alongside the light- house before there can be any serious snowfall.” said practical Constance. “Surely we can make the land again no matter how thick the weather may it was hidden by Clement's ls- THE DURHAM CHRONICLE rsn aloft m a wad hurry to signs! for assistance. he found. to his des- pair, that the Land’s End was already blotted out in a swirling snow-sto and the great plain of blue sea 11 shrunk,to a leaden patch whose vili- ble iimits made the reef look large by comparison. ' With the mechanical precision d habit he set the big boil in motion. its heavy boom came fittully through the pelting snow-talus to the ears of the two girls and old Ben. The latter. .1aster of the situation now. an- nounced his intention to ’bout ship .1aster of the situation .zounced his intention to and make for Mounts Bay. 1 “’Ee daan' ketch me tryin' to sail 31086 to Gulf Rock when 'ee can’t zee t boat's length ahead,” he said, em- )hatically. “I be sorry. ladies both, mt 'ee knaw how the tide runs over :he reef. an' ’tes easy to drive to the wrong side of the light. \Ve‘m try again tomorrow. On‘y the flowers ’1] spile. All the restâ€"” Crash! A loud explosion burst forth from the dense heights of the storm. The Daisy, sturdy as she was,_seemogl to shiver. The very air trembled with the din. Pollard had his hand on the sail to swing it to starboard when Constance put the tiller over to bring the boat’s head up against the wind. For an instant he hesitated. Even he. versed in the ways of the sea, was startled. Both girls positively jump- ed, the sudden bang of the rocket was so unexpected. “Miste'r Brand must ha' zeed us." pronounced Ben. “That’s a. warnln' to we to go back.f' The words had scarce left his lips when another report smote the great silence. otherwise unbroken save by the quiet plash ot the sea against the bows and the faint reverberations of the distant bell. “That is too urgent to be intended for us.” said Constance. “We were just half way when the snow com- menced.” “I did not notice any vessel near the rock," cried Enid, tremulously. “Did you, Ben ?" Pollard’s slow utterance was not quick enough. Before he could an- swer, a third rocket thundered its over-powering summons. “That is the ‘Help wanted' signal,” cried Constance. “Ben, there is no question now of going back. We must keep our present course for twenty minutes at least, and then take to the ours. The bell will guide us." “Oh, yes, Ben,” agreed Enid. “Some- thing has gone wrong on the rock it- self. I am quite sure there was no ship near enough to be in trouble al- ready!’ “By gum we’m zee what's the mat- ter,” growled Ben. “Steady it is, Miss Brand. Et we’m in trouble I'd as soon ha’ you two gells aboard as any two men in Penzance.” At another time the compliment would have earned him a torrent of sarcasm. Now it passed unheeded. The situation was bewildering, alarm. ing. There were three keepers in the lighthouse. The signal foreboded ill- ness, sudden and serious illness. Who could it be! In such a crisis charity begins at home. Constance, with set face and shining eyes, Enid flushed and on the verge of tears, feared lest their own beloved one should be the sufl’erer. Wivvv‘ v" â€"-___, To each of them Stephen Brand was equally a kind and devoted father. He never allowed Enid to feel that she was dependent on his bounty. Only A _I _L AL- \J‘OI-v-v v-â€" the other day, when she hinted at the adoption of an art career as a future means of earning a livelihood, be up proved of the necessary study but laughed st the reason. “With your pretty face end uucy wnvn. Enid." he said. “I shall hove “With your pretty face and saucy ways, Enid," he said, “I shall have trouble enough to keep you in the nest without worrying as to the manner of your leaving it. Work at your draw- ing. by all means. Avoid color as the bane of true art. But where Connie and I live you shall live. until‘ you choose to forsake us.”_ ‘. _-I_L LL-“ DI‘UVDV w v- vwsâ€"v __ No wonder these girls thought there was no other man in the world like “dad." Their delightful home was idyllic in its happiness: their only sorrow that Brand should be away two months out of three on account of .the pursuit in which he passed his hours of leisure during recent years. Neither dared to look at the other. They could not trust themselves even to speak. There was relief in ac-l tion, for thought was torture. The docile Daisy steadily forged through the waves. The spasmodic clang of the bell came more clearly each minute. Pollard, kneeling in the bows. peered into the gloom of the swirling snow. He listened eagerly to the bell. With right hand or left he motioned to Constance to bring the boat's head nearer to the wind or per- . mit the sail to fill out a little more. AL- A--"-- Lu vuv '- Enid. radar "to cast the canvas loose at the first hint of danger. con- suited her watch frequently. At last she cried: “Twenty minutes. Ben." What a relief it was to hear her own voice. The tension was becoming un- bearable. * 1 “Right 3" are, missy. No need to slack off yet. ’Tes clearin’ a bit. We’m heave to alongside the rock in less’n no time.’ The fisherman was right. His train- ed senses perceived a distinct duninn. tion in the volume of snow. Soon they could see fifty, a hundred, two hundred yards ahead. 0n the star board quarter they caught a confused rushing noise, like the subdued mur- mur of a millrace. The tide had cov iered the rock. “Lqu et is!’ “Steady now." w 'vwâ€"' Out of the blurred vista a ghostly column rose in front. Smooth and sheer were its granite walls, with dark little easements showing black in the weird light. The boat rushed past the Trinity mooring-buoy. She held on until they heard the sea break-3 ing. “Lower away!" cried Ben, and the yard fell with a sharp rattle that showed how thoroughly Enid had: laid to heart Pollard's tuition. ‘ Constance brought the Daisy round in a wide curve, and Ben got out the oars to keep her from being dashed against the reef. Enid’e eyes were turned towards the gallery beneath the lantern. LID“. is!” roared Ben, suddenly. US. levei with the hal'cony. flat t-ften had the girls visited the rock, but they knew that this was the first sign they might expect of their arrival being noted it there were no watchers pac- ing the “promenade.” “Help us. Ben." cried Constance. and their united shouts might be heard a mile away in the prevailing stillness. A window half way up the tower was Opened. A man's head and shoulders appeared. it was Stephen Brand. “Thank God!" murmured Constance. Enid, on whose sensitive soul the storm, the signal, the hissing rush of the boat through the waves had casti a spell of indefinite horror, hit her‘ lip to restrain her tears. Brand gave a glance oi amazement at the three uplifted faces. But this was no time for surprise or question. “I am coming down." he shouted. “Providence must have sent you at this moment.” He vanished. “What can it be?" said Constance. outwardly calm now in the assurance that her father was safe. “Must ha' bin a’ accident," said Ben. “That signal means ‘Bring a doctor.’ An' there ain't a blessed-tug in har- VIIIVIJ vulv -â€"â€"_â€"- , Constance, without flickering an! eyelid. stepped into the strong basket with its iron hoops, and, having ar- ranged some of the plethoric paper bags at her feet, told her father to “hoist away.” She arrived safely. Enid followed her, with equal sang froid, though a lift of forty odd feet whilst standing in a skip and clinging to a rope is not an every-day experience. “Dang me.’ said Ben. as Enid, too, ‘was swung into the lighthouse, “but ithey're two plucked ’uns." vouvd The great nell tolled away, though the snow had changed to sleet. and the heights beyond the Land’s End were dimly visible, so its warning note was no longer needed. The sky above was clearing. A luminous haze spreading over the waters heralded the return of the sun. But the wind was bitterly cold; the fisherman watching the open door, with one eye on the sea lest an adventurous wave should sweep the Daisy against the grock, murmured to himself: I AL- 'hi ‘ULB' III“. “Ia-v“ vv _â€"_-__ “ "I‘ea a good job theâ€" Wind's l’ the norrard. This sort 0' thing’s a wear ther-breeder, or my name aln’t Ben Pollard.’ And that was how Enld came back to the Gulf Rock to enter upon the second epoch of her life. Once before had the reef taken her to lta rough heart and fended her from peril. Would lt shleld her again â€"reacue her from the graver danger whoae shadow even now loomed out of the deep. What was the bell say- ing ln lta wlattul monotony? â€" â€" â€" -_ â€"A4I Inn-O I“. On Iv- vv-â€"--â€"- --_-___ _ Enid neither knew nor cared. Jult then she had other things to think ubout. most annoying.” “Well.” eel e physician. “the next time they cough tell them to poses the upper lip just henceth the nose. Prue- ing the nerves in thet quartet will atopthemoetobeuneboough.endby theametokenitvillstopasneeu ha. “I'lltellyouhowfloatopthehicâ€" cough. You press herd on the cheek right in tram. o! the oer. Those none: more control the hicooughs as money controls politics. You need only press .â€"he nerves will do the rest.” “My cowtion °° bruins.” s clergyman a: bed '.“I¢ udly make myself baud. It To :be continued. PLANING MILLS ZENUS CLARK DU RIAI The undersigned begs to announce to residents of Durban and surrounding country. tint be has hls Planning Mill und Factory iron work and unchino re- nd". Acdlooliclted. Ask for quotation: on your next job. All persons owing us an cull and soul. by cash or note on or before the 15th of April. SASI'I, DOORS -â€" and I“ kind. cl - floune Fittings ll

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