On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. " Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his head. You're a queer lad. Heard voices. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. In fact, I order you to do so. ‘I have only borrowed it. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing.
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