My Danish Sweetheart, Volume Iii by W. Clark Russell

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'Well, and if this here ain't been a right-down sort of proper cajolin' job tew! Strike me bald, Mr. Tregarthen, if the hexecution of this here trepanning ain't vurth a gold medal, let alone the planning of it! ' shouted Jacob.

I rose from my knees with my hand upon my heart, breathing short. The reaction from the intense mental strain of the preceding twenty minutes ran a feeling of swooning through my brain, but the fresh air and sense of safety speedily rallied me. Helga stood at the wheel, steering the barque. I flourished my arm to her, and she kissed her hand to me. Close against the securely covered hatch stood the two boatmen, and at either man's feet lay a heavy belaying-pin, which, as I knew by what had been preconcerted, had been gripped by their powerful fists ready for the first black head that might have followed me as I emerged.

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