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"You took the bull by the horns at an opportune moment, my son," said Captain Passford, Senior. "If you had not done so you would have been in a rebel prison at this moment. As it is, poor Corny has got back to Fort Lafayette, with Galvinne and our man-servant, whom I never should have suspected of being a Confederate officer."

āļ§āļīāđ€āļ„āļĢāļēāļ°āļŦāđŒ āļšāļ­āļĨ āđ€āļ‹ āļšāļĩ āļĒāđˆāļē āļ§āļąāļ™ āļ™āļĩāđ‰ 83 "If I am correctly informed, you came home as prize master of the Vixen, convoying quite a fleet of steamers and schooners," continued Captain Battleton, looking about the cabin as though the inquiry had become wearisome to him. "How is your patient, Dr. Connelly?" asked Captain Battleton, joining them at this moment. He could not get in, and he walked around the building to find a window which had not been closed. His mother had a reasonable dread of robbers, and she always looked out for the windows before she retired. He did not wish to arouse the family by ringing the great gong bell, but it was too cold to spend the rest of the night out-doors in his half-clothed condition, for he was as liable to take a severe cold as any less brilliant individual, and he might have to spend a month in his chamber, instead of reporting to the flag-officer of the Eastern Gulf squadron, in command of the Bronx. "How many guns has it? I mean big guns, Uncle Job?"

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