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"But I wished to see you in regard to the prisoners," interposed Mr. Flint. "We have four of them here made fast to the rail, and Galvinne complains of his treatment; he says he is cold."

āļ•āļąāļ§ āļˆāļąāļš āđ€āļŠāļĩāļĒāļ‡ āđ„āļŪāđ‚āļĨ āļĢāļēāļ„āļē "That is the shoalest we shall get," added the officer. "He said he believed you were bony fido commander of the Bronx, and he is ready to obey your orders. Mr. Flint had a talk with him while the first lieutenant was below; he talked to Boxie, and three more of the men, and he did it mighty sly, too, for the third lieutenant was on the deck all the time. There's eight bells, Massa Christy, and the second lieutenant will have the deck." "She is off the shore not far from here. Now you will answer my questions. There is a fort here?" The commander appeared to be less occupied at this moment than he had been before, and Christy 47 stepped forward to the quarter-deck, and politely saluted him. Captain Battleton was not less punctilious in his etiquette. He was a young man, though he was apparently six or seven years older than Christy. He was an ensign, and looked like a gentleman who was likely to give a good account of himself when he was called to more active duty than that of commanding a store ship.

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