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Updated: May 5, 2025
He appeared to be addressing some imaginary public tribunal either in Spanish or Portuguese. Holroyd's improving ear detected something about ammunition. He came out of these preoccupations suddenly into English. "My dear 'Olroyd!" he cried, and broke off with "But what can one do?" They took the boat and the field-glasses, and went close in to examine the place.
Eh! but I was wroth when Olroyd and the rest pushed me through the door. However, there we were, locked in; I was up in one window, and my brother was in the belfry as I thought, each trying to see what was forward.
And then I saw little Dickie Olroyd in his surplice ringing a bell and bearing a candle, and behind him came my brother, in a purple cope I had never set eyes on before, with his square cap and a great book, and his eyes shining out of his head, and his lips opening and mouthing out Latin; and then he stopped, laid the book reverently on a tombstone, lifted both hands, and brought them down with the fingers out, and his eyes larger than ever.
The captain shrugged his shoulders, fumed, and gave his attention to a cigarette. Afterwards he reopened the subject. "My dear 'Olroyd, what am I to do about dese infernal ants?" The captain reflected. "It is ridiculous," he said. But in the afternoon he put on his full uniform and went ashore, and jars and boxes came back to the ship and subsequently he did.
'I don't know him; no, I mean that down-lookin' chap you introduced to me 'Olroyd, isn't it? Well, don't you have too much to do with him there's something in his eye I don't fancy; he ain't to be trusted, and you mind what I say. 'Well, said Mark, 'I can promise you that I shall see no more of him than I can help in future, if that's any relief to your mind.
They passed out through the dingy, gas-lit clerk's room, and Holroyd stopped for a minute to speak to the clerk, a mild, pale man, who was neatly copying out an opinion at the foot of a case. 'Good-bye, Tucker, he said, 'I don't suppose I shall see you again for some time. 'Good-bye, Mr. 'Olroyd, sir. Very sorry to lose you.
No sort of bally good. We must go back for instructions. Dere will be de devil of a row about dis ammunition oh! de devil of a row! You don't know, 'Olroyd..." He stood regarding the world in infinite perplexity for a space. "But what else was there to do?" he cried.
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