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After half an hour of questioning, Corny was sent to the ward room, and Christy was called to 78 the captain's cabin. About the same questions were put to him as to his cousin; but both of them were prompt in their answers. In the last two years, Corny had been more at Bonnydale than Christy, and he was quite as much at home there, so that there was no reason why he should not be able to describe the mansion and its surroundings as accurately as the genuine Lieutenant Passford.

āđ€āļˆāđ‰āļēāļĄāļ·āļ­āļĢāļąāļšāđāļ—āļ‡āļ—āļĩāđˆāļĄāļĩāļŠāļ·āđˆāļ­āđ€āļŠāļĩāļĒāļ‡āļ—āļĩāđˆāļŠāļļāļ”āđƒāļ™āđ‚āļĨāļ "If he does that, so much the better, for we shall have more time to prepare for a decided stroke," replied Christy. "I have my plan all ready, though of course it may fail, and to-night we may all be prisoners of war." "I have done something in the business, and perhaps I can cure the man who is sick, if they have the proper medicine," added the officer. "The officer in command of that fort is not idle," said Mr. Flint, who had been using his glass very industriously since the firing ceased. "The soldiers are busy setting up the guns again, or some of them." Possibly the man under examination was not wholly responsible for his distortion of the name of Captain Passford's estate, as Christy was beginning to reap the penalty of his imprudence the night before, in exposing himself barefooted and half-clothed to the chill midnight air, and was developing a cold in the head that already affected his enunciation.

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