" "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. . Placing a piece of money in Morgan's hands, he hurried out of the churchyard. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair.
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