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The question stung the other as a leather lash stings quivering flesh. "Is that your well with the jail-wall about it, yonder?" "Not before?" cried Miss Acton, an exclamation which Captain Weaver received with a faint smile..
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"Well, sir," said Mr Eagle, who uttered his convictions with the misgiving which fear of the listener excites, "my own opinion is that it wouldn't be reckoned as mutiny. It wouldn't be justice if it was called mutiny, and treated as mutiny. 'Taint the crew that breaks the agreement by refusing to do something which they never shipped to undertake, but the owner who gives 'em a job when at sea which they would have declined to hear of had they been told of it ashore. And I'm surprised," he continued, emboldened by Mr Lawrence's silence, "that Captain Acton, who is a gentleman born, and a man one could sarve all his life with satisfaction to himself and employer, should get rid of his ship and crew in such a fashion. But, perhaps, all that you say, sir, won't be found in the instructions you are to read in latitude twenty." "Why, Captain Acton's daughter, Miss Lucy Acton!" The occupants of the skiff cast a contemptuous look at his old muzzle-loader, as they passed, and one of them laughed and said something in an aside to his companion. "Again and again, madam, whilst her timbers held.".
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