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As he spoke, Boxie dropped in his place at the wheel, and Vincent grasped the spokes. The blood was streaming down the face of the old man, and he did not move after he fell. Two sailors bore him below; but the surgeon promptly declared that he was dead.

āđ€āļāļĄ āđ€āļ‹āđ‡āļāļ‹āļĩāđˆ āļšāļē āļ„āļē āļĢāđˆāļē "Advance, friends, and give the countersign!" "I done get sick, massa, and I's gwine up to de big house to see de doctor," replied the negro, who probably used the first excuse that came into his head. "I am glad to see you, Christy," said the prisoner, if he was to be regarded as such, for he certainly was not a sailor or a soldier.

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