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Dimsdale's chapter is well worth reading, as a specimen of how the people of the frontier deal with criminals when the courts of law prove inefficient. Mr.
Generally on such occasions matters are made infinitely worse by some Job's comforter, who creeps about suggesting abstruse questions, and hinting that they represent some examiner's particular hobby. Such a one came to Dimsdale's elbow, and quenched the last ray of hope which lingered in the young man's bosom. "What do you know about cacodyl?" was his impressive question. "Cacodyl?"
"Do you ever think of yourself at all?" she asked, turning aside to the tray that Dimsdale's consideration had provided. "A great deal more often than you imagine," smiled Lucas. "Must you really do the waiting? It's very bad for me, you know." He joked with her gently through the light repast that followed. And though she scarcely responded, she let him see her gratitude.
With something very like emotion he thanked the Minister. "Yes, my dear friend," answered the Pasha, "the love of Egypt has helped us to understand each other. And we shall know each other better still by-and-by-by-and-by.... You shall be gazetted to-morrow. Allah preserve you from all error!" This began the second period of Dimsdale's career.
'My darling Tom' who is this from Yours ever, Mary Ossary. Why, it's one of young Dimsdale's love-letters which has got mixed up with my business papers. Ha! ha! I must really apologize to him for having opened it, but he must take his chance of that, if he has his correspondence sent to the office. I take it for granted that everything there is a business communication."
Therefore Imshi Pasha, being a wise man and a deep-dyed official who had never yet seen the triumph of the reformer and the honest Aryan, took Dimsdale's hands and said suddenly, with a sorrowful break in his voice: "Behold, my friend, to tell the whole truth as God gives it, it is time you have come. Egypt has waited for you the man who sees and knows. I have watched you for two years.
Her voice had the curious vibrant note of the Arab, and the words were in singular sympathy with Dimsdale's thoughts: "I have a journey to make, and perils are in hiding, Many moons must I travel, many foes meet; A morsel of bread my food, a goolah of water for drinking, Desert sand for my bed, the moonlight my sheet.... Come, my love, to the scented palms: Behold, the hour of remembrance!"
He has a specious way with him, and I felt my responsibility in the matter." "You need not be afraid on that score," Kate said bitterly. "I think I can gauge Mr. Dimsdale's specious manner at its proper value." With this valiant speech she marched off, head in air, to her room, and there wept as though her very heart would break.
Nap Errol," said Anne, still intent upon the acacia. "Show him into the garden when he comes. He is sure to find me somewhere." Dimsdale's eyes opened very wide, but he managed his customary "Very good, my lady," as he continued his preparations.
And this: "From Fort Kearney, west, he was feared a great deal more than the almighty." For compactness, simplicity and vigor of expression, I will "back" that sentence against anything in literature. Mr. Dimsdale's narrative is as follows.
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