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Lieutenant Fourchon pressed the hand of the doctor, and left the casemate with him.
āđāļāļĢ āļāļēāļ 50 āļĢāļąāļ 150 āļĨāđāļēāļŠāļļāļ The rattle of musketry became quite sharp, and the bullets were penetrating the bulwarks. Two had been wounded at one of the guns, and carried below. Christy stepped over to the end of the 355 bridge to call a hand to take the place of Boxie, and at that moment he felt a sharp sting, as it were, in his right arm, above the elbow. Involuntarily he raised his hand to the place, and felt the warm blood oozing from the wound. It produced a momentary faintness; but he braced himself up, and wound his handkerchief around his arm, calling upon the wheelman to tie it, as he hastened to the aid of Vincent. He said not a word about the accident. "That is my name," added Christy, smiling at the earnestness of the skipper. "We lie about south of what Mike calls the big house, a mile and a half distant from it. Make the boat's course north north-west, and you will strike the shore about half way between the planter's house and the fort. But when you get near enough to see both of them, you can land where you think best," Christy explained. "Good-morning, Uncle Job," replied Mike, taking the hand of the aged colored person. "How is your health?"