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Holgate dropped it inside his belt. "Full steam, and turn her nose to Cairo. No time to lose!" He had told Holgate earlier in the evening to keep up steam. He could see a crowd slowly gathering under the palm-trees between the shore and Beni Hassan. They were waiting for Mahommed Ibrahim's signal. Holgate was below, the sailors were at the cables. "Let go ropes!" Dicky called.
"Aye, aw've heerd o' Gordon a bit," said Holgate dubiously, intent to further anger the Beetle, as Henry Withers was called. "Ow yus, ow verily yus! An' y've 'eard o' Julius Caesar, an' Nebucha'nezzar, an' Florence Noightingyle, 'aven't you you wich is chiefly bellyband and gullet." "Aye, aw've eaten too mooch to-day," rejoined Holgate placidly, refusing to see insult.
Holgate dropped it inside his belt. "Full steam, and turn her nose to Cairo. No time to lose!" He had told Holgate earlier in the evening to keep up steam. He could see a crowd slowly gathering under the palm-trees between the shore and Beni Hassan. They were waiting for Mahommed Ibrahim's signal. Holgate was below, the sailors were at the cables. "Let go ropes!" Dicky called.
"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.
"The Governor never loses his nerve, Holgate," said Dicky, smiling and offering a cigar. "There's such a thing as a man being afraid to trust himself where he's been in a mess, lest he hit out, and doesn't want to."
One of the most curious rows is the Shambles, on a narrow street and dating from the fourteenth century. A little way out of town is the village of Holgate, which was the residence of Lindley Murray the grammarian. Guy Fawkes is said to have been a native of York, and this strange and antique old city, we are also credibly assured, was in 1632 the birthplace of Robinson Crusoe.
Margaret's at Lynn, to John Holgate, aged 27, who died in 1712: He hath gained his port and is at ease, And hath escapt ye danger of ye seas, His glass is run his life is gone, Which to my thought never did no man no wronge.
Dicky's way of getting information seemed guileless, and Holgate opened his basket as wide as he knew. It be reg'lar as kitchen-fire, this Hasha business, for three years, ever sin' aw been scrapin' mud o' Nile River." "That was a nasty row they had over the cemetery three years ago, the Governor against the lot, from mamour to wekeel!"
Dicky's back was to the light, the Orderly's face in the full glow of it. Dicky was standing beside the wire communicating with the engineer's cabin. He reached out his hand and pulled the hook. The bell rang below. The two above stood silent, motionless, the pistol still levelled. Holgate, the young Yorkshire engineer, pulled himself up to the deck two steps of the ladder at a time.
Alice glided towards me with an air of imposing consciousness, and thrust a tiny, gloved hand into mine, and then with a graceful gesture she turned towards her companion and murmured faintly, "my cousin, Miss Holgate Miss Hampden." I bowed and smiled, and directed them to convenient seats, the situation was becoming more and more trying to my inclination to laugh outright.
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