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"I decline to be regarded as the hero of the adventure, as you call it; and it was not so stupid as you suggest," replied Christy, with the greatest good-nature.

เอ เย่ น เว็บ หวย "Is that so? Then we mustn't talk here," added Warton, apparently somewhat alarmed. "Who told you so?" With the aid of his speaking trumpet he gave the same order to Mr. Camden on board of the Sphinx; but he had hardly uttered the command before his left leg gave way under him, and he sunk to the floor of the bridge. A ball had struck him in the thigh, and he could feel the blood flowing down his limb. He grasped the rail of the bridge, and drew himself up. There he stood like a statue, supporting himself with his well arm, till the Bronx had passed out of musket-shot range. In fact, Captain Flanger seemed to be more disturbed at the accident to his proboscis, than by the failure of his quixotic scheme to capture the Bronx. He was certainly a very good-looking man, and took good care of his person, as indicated by the care bestowed upon his hair and beard. "You have never seen my cousin Corny, I believe, Dave; but he looks like me. Now sit down, and I will tell you all about it." "Here are my papers, captain," added Corny, as he passed his envelope across the table to the commander. The cutter came up at the gangway of the 218 Bronx, and Christy was standing on the rail, anxious to learn what the boat had accomplished. He had heard the report of the volley fired at the cutter, and had been very solicitous for the safety of her crew. He had weighed anchor as soon as he heard the sounds, and proceeded in the direction from which they came. Flanger in the Captain's Cabin.—Page 281.