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The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. He might call her wife, but she refused to give him his wedding night. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. “I have scarcely left his side.

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