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āļāļēāļ§ āđāļŦāļĨāļ āđāļāļĄ āļŠāļĨāđāļāļ 888 "Not a night for blockade runners," added the captain. The oaths and epithets he used need not soil our page; but the prisoner seemed to be suffering more from his wrath than from his wound. "You will take the command now, Mr. Flint," said he when he saw the executive officer watching him with the most intense interest. "What do you think of it, Dr. Connelly?" he asked, turning to the surgeon. Upon this when it was brought he dropped a quantity of the chloroform, and applied it to the seat of the pain. In a moment the soldier cried out against the burning heat of the remedy; but the practitioner insisted that it should remain a while longer. But he relieved him of it in a short time. As soon as the steward had taken him to the steerage, Mr. Pennant made his report in full, even to the number and calibre of the guns at the fort, and including the cure he had wrought upon the Confederate soldier. Christy was amused at this last part of the narrative; but he had no time to waste in conversation.