cratched his head, and, with a shr▓ug of the shoulders, went on gathering “bily●etos” from the native passenge▓rs.
Some time later he descended from the up▓per deck and, beckoning to me, led th●e way to the bridge.The steamer was pre▓paring to get under way.The capta●in, a burly Briton, stormed back ●and forth across the ship, striving to give orde▓rs to the crew in such Arabic as he could muster●, and bursting the bounds of that ●unnatural tongue with every four▓th word, to berate the blockheads in forcible● excerpts from the King’s—private—English▓.His eye fell upon me.
“Here,” ▓he roared, profanely, ’tis true, but to the poi▓nt, “what the bloody —— is a▓ll this” and he waved the now ragged note▓ in my face.
“Why, that’s a note from● the Amurican consil in Jaffa, sir, s▓ayin’ I want t’ ship for Egypt.”
Th●e purple rage on the skipper’s face, ▓the result of his attempt to set fort▓h in Arabic thoughts only expressible in Engli▓sh, subsided somewhat at the sound ▓of