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The Captain of the Polestar by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
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you--I am indeed--and I would give fifty pounds this minute to see
you standing safe upon the Dundee quay. It's hit or miss with me
this time. There are fish to the north of us. How dare you shake
your head, sir, when I tell you I saw them blowing from the
masthead?"--this in a sudden burst of fury, though I was not
conscious of having shown any signs of doubt. "Two-and-twenty fish
in as many minutes as I am a living man, and not one under ten
foot.[1] Now, Doctor, do you think I can leave the country when
there is only one infernal strip of ice between me and my fortune?
If it came on to blow from the north to-morrow we could fill the
ship and be away before the frost could catch us. If it came on to
blow from the south--well, I suppose the men are paid for risking
their lives, and as for myself it matters but little to me, for I
have more to bind me to the other world than to this one. I
confess that I am sorry for you, though. I wish I had old Angus
Tait who was with me last voyage, for he was a man that would never
be missed, and you--you said once that you were engaged, did you
not?"


[1] A whale is measured among whalers not by the length of its
body, but by the length of its whalebone.


"Yes," I answered, snapping the spring of the locket which hung
from my watch-chain, and holding up the little vignette of Flora.

"Curse you!" he yelled, springing out of his seat, with his very
beard bristling with passion. "What is your happiness to me? What
have I to do with her that you must dangle her photograph before my
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