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āđ€āļ§āđ‡āļš āļ•āļĢāļ‡ 918kiss "I think the Russian said so." 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. "I done wish dat Massa Linkum come down here hisself," added the venerable colored person. 17 Christy heard nothing, and he silently descended the stairs to the lower hall. All was as quiet there as upon the floor above, and he had begun to think that the impression he had received had been given him in a dream, though he could not remember that he had been dreaming. But when he came to the front door, he found it was ajar. It was usually secured by a spring lock, and those who were liable to be out in the evening were provided with night-keys. "Remove the handcuff from his left wrist, and fit him out with a new pair," said Mr. Flint, who still held the left arm of the prisoner. "But I can wait, Mr. Pennant," interposed Christy. "We are all private citizens," added the sloop's spokesman.

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