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Updated: May 4, 2025
There was a churning below. The Amenhotep was moving from the bank. "She's going the boat's going," said the Lost One, trembling to his feet. "Sit down," said Dicky, and gripped him by the arm. "Where are you taking me?" asked Heatherby, a strange, excited look in his face. "Up the river." He seemed to read Dicky's thoughts the clairvoyance of an overwrought mind: "To to Assouan?"
He'll get lost in the sugar-cane one of these evenings soon." "Couldn't we . . ." Dicky paused. Fielding started, looked at Dicky intently, and then shook his head sadly. "It's no good, Dicky. It never is." "'While the lamp holds out to burn . . ." said Dicky, and lighted another cigarette. Precisely at seven o'clock Heatherby appeared.
That look told them how Heatherby of the Buffs had gone from table d'hote to table d'hote of Europe, from town to town, from village to village, to make acquaintances who repulsed him when they discovered who he really was. Shady Heatherby, who cheated at cards! Once Fielding made as if to put a hand on his shoulder and speak to him, but Dicky intervened with a look.
Six months later, a letter came to Dicky from an Egyptian officer, saying that Heatherby of the Buffs had died gallantly fighting in a sortie sent by Gordon into the desert. "He had a lot of luck," mused Dicky as he read. "They don't end that way as a rule." Then he went to Fielding, humming a certain stave from one of Watts's hymns.
There was a churning below. The Amenhotep was moving from the bank. "She's going the boat's going," said the Lost One, trembling to his feet. "Sit down," said Dicky, and gripped him by the arm. "Where are you taking me?" asked Heatherby, a strange, excited look in his face. "Up the river." He seemed to read Dicky's thoughts the clairvoyance of an overwrought mind: "To to Assouan?"
That look told them how Heatherby of the Buffs had gone from table d'hote to table d'hote of Europe, from town to town, from village to village, to make acquaintances who repulsed him when they discovered who he really was. Shady Heatherby, who cheated at cards! Once Fielding made as if to put a hand on his shoulder and speak to him, but Dicky intervened with a look.
And so, instead of becoming first a grind and then a discouraged rebel against it all, he had the immense good fortune to be captured by an observant Junior whom he had met while they were both registering for Chemistry III. "You're new here," said the Junior, Heatherby by name, "and I've had two years of it. Maybe you'll let me show you the place.
I'm the proud half-owner of a decidedly second-hand 'Hooting Nanny, you know, and I rather like bumping people around town in it." That was the beginning of many things. Joe liked it that Heatherby made no apologies for his car, and before long he discovered that the other half-owner, Barnard, was equally unaffected and friendly.
Dicky's voice was hard now. "Who was he?" "Heatherby Bob Heatherby!" "Bob Heatherby gad! Fielding, I'm sorry I couldn't have guessed, old man. Mrs. Henshaw's brother!" Fielding nodded. Dicky turned his head away; for Fielding was in love with Mrs. Henshaw, the widow of Henshaw of the Buffs. He realised now why Fielding loathed Hasha so. "Forgive me for asking him to mess, guv'nor."
"Safe enough, or aw'm a Dootchman," said Holgate. Then they talked in a low voice together. Down in the saloon, Dicky sat watching Heatherby. At last the Lost One raised his head again. "It's worth more to me, this night, than you fellows know," he said brokenly. "That's all right," said Dicky. "Have a cigar?" He shook his head. "It's come at the right time.
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