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A spasm of pain crossed the boy's face. "Like a man," he answered shortly. "The Devil," said the Admiral, "is very bountiful to his servants in his gifts of opportunity." She was within a couple of miles when she shaped herself out of the rain-thickened murkiness. The Aurora was making a free wind, and every stitch of canvas was doing its work. Was yonder stranger French or English? The Admiral and Captain Acton, who were both on deck, left Captain Weaver to his own devices, sensible that they were in the hands of a shrewd, well-seasoned, practical sailor, who knew his ship better than they did. "We'll test her," said he, and the tricolour was run aloft. No flag aboard the brig was to be seen in response. The schooner was crossing the stranger's bows when the brig suddenly let fly a shotted gun at her. Whatever her nationality it was plain she was not satisfied with the show of bunting flying aboard a vessel that any practised eye could at once see was not of French paternity..

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He tried to speak, tried to pronounce her name, but the effort was a failure. All he could do was to drink in her perfect loveliness. More than ever like an angel she looked, standing all in white in the blue-dark gloom of the grove, her hair glowing like a halo above the deep pools of her eyes. "And what is that conviction, madam?" asked Sir William, from whose jolly round face fatigue had robbed much of its warm colour. "What were the characters which could convince so shrewd and intelligent a man as Mr Lawrence that you were mad?" enquired Captain Acton, the habitual gravity of whose face was replaced by a constant expression of astonishment. Maurice scratched his head thoughtfully. "Say, you know a lot about snakes an' things, don't you?" he said admiringly..