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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I? No, I didn't know it," answered Syme in some surprise. "But didn't you?" "I knew no more than the dead," replied the man who called himself de Worms. "I thought the President was talking about me, and I rattled in my boots." "And I thought he was talking about me," said Syme, with his rather reckless laughter. "I had my hand on my revolver all the time."
From Cos arriving in the night at Cnidus he was constrained by the representations of the Cnidians not to disembark the sailors, but to sail as he was straight against the twenty Athenian vessels, which with Charminus, one of the commanders at Samos, were on the watch for the very twenty-seven ships from Peloponnese which Astyochus was himself sailing to join; the Athenians in Samos having heard from Melos of their approach, and Charminus being on the look-out off Syme, Chalce, Rhodes, and Lycia, as he now heard that they were at Caunus.
There was something in this silent and unexpected innocence that left Syme in a final fury. The man's colourless face and manner seemed to assert that the whole following had been an accident. Syme was galvanised with an energy that was something between bitterness and a burst of boyish derision.
How he renewed his acquaintance there, and in what sad circumstances, with Rab and his friends, it is superfluous to tell, for every one who reads at all has read that story, and most readers not without tears. As a medical student in Edinburgh, Dr. Brown made the friendship of Mr. Syme, the famous surgeon a friendship only closed by death.
Syme of Edinburgh, Wood, and Ollier have devised methods of restoring the nose, which bear their names. Ohmann-Dumesnil reports a case of rhinophyma in a man of seventy-two, an alcoholic, who was originally affected with acne rosacea, on whom he performed a most successful operation for restoration.
It looked like a stream of literal fire winding under the vast caverns of a subterranean country. Syme was shabby in those days. He wore an old-fashioned black chimney-pot hat; he was wrapped in a yet more old-fashioned cloak, black and ragged; and the combination gave him the look of the early villains in Dickens and Bulwer Lytton.
When the carriages eventually rolled up to a large, low, cavernous gateway, another man in the same uniform, but wearing a silver star on the grey breast of his coat, came out to meet them. This impressive person said to the bewildered Syme "Refreshments are provided for you in your room."
"We are the serious anarchists, in whom you do not believe." "Oh!" said Syme shortly. "You do yourselves well in drinks." "Yes, we are serious about everything," answered Gregory. Then after a pause he added "If in a few moments this table begins to turn round a little, don't put it down to your inroads into the champagne. I don't wish you to do yourself an injustice."
"I don't mean no 'arm, sir; it was just their 'ounding him, like, and 'is being a dark-complected man the syme as them, and speakin' their language so ready, that made me think it. At least 'e might 'ave 'ad a little of their blood in 'im, sir. Things 'd seem unaccountable otherwise," concluded Doggott vaguely. "It's impossible!" cried Amber. "Yes, sir; at least, I mean I 'ope so, sir.
"Well, they won't have their backs broke as carry this one downstairs. He ain't a Danny Lambert, anyway." "No, they don't feed ye on Bovril in plyces syme as this. I'll lay ye odds yer own looking-glass wouldn't know ye arter three months 'ard on religion and dry tommy." "It pawses me 'ow people tyke to it. Gimme my pint of four-half, and my own childring to follow me."
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