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PREFACE
āđāļĨāđāļ āļāđāļēāļ āđāļ§āđāļ jokerāļŠāļĨāđāļāļ roma āđāļĨāđāļ āļāļĢāļĩ "They are awake there," said Christy with a smile to the first lieutenant, and both of them watched for the fall of the shot, which struck the water at least a quarter of a mile ahead of the vessel. "Beat to quarters, Mr. Flint." Christy thought this would be an excellent retreat for him, not only because it promised him the greatest security, but because it would permit 126 him to hear what passed between the pretended commander and others, especially Mr. Galvinne. He had been reasonably confident of returning to the gunboat when he went to the North as prize master, though not as her commander, and he had left his trunk on board. "That sounds like a story for a novel," added the planter, smiling. "Who is Captain Flanger?" asked Christy. He had placed his valise in the gangway, and 86 he had not far to go to procure the report, his first draft of the document, which he had revised and copied at Bonnydale. "So can I, if you please, captain," added the lieutenant, smiling as pleasantly as though he had been free from pain, as he could not have been with the wound in his arm. "I wish to say a few words about the gentleman in black we captured on board of the sloop." "He still complains that his head and his bones ache, so that I cannot say he is improving," replied Dr. Connelly.