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"And begobs I meant ut too," cried Harry. "When Caleb Spencer says, 'All av ut' to me, ut's laugh at him I wull, and tell him it's meself wants none av ut." And meanwhile Captain Weaver had received instructions from Captain Acton to continue his chase of the Minorca, and the schooner under full and large breasts of canvas was gently leaning from a pleasant little breeze which had sprung up whilst the Aurora was sending meat and water to the brig, and was sliding with some show of nimbleness through a blue surface that was summer-like in peaceful rippling, in beautiful dyes, and in splendid distances. "There now. Nobody 'ud believe it. An' yet I saw it.".
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The dark moonlit hours thus passed, and the Aurora followed the stranger, but at a distance that was out of cannon reach. As he rounded the kitchen, preparatory to a leap across the open space between it and the big wood-pile, Mrs. Wilson's voice came to him, high-pitched and freighted with anger. "I can make no other answer than this, ma'am," said Captain Weaver. "Suppose she was down on the wharves between half-past seven and eight. Most of the labourers would have been away breakfasting. The few that hung about might not have taken any notice of her, or if one or two did, then they are people we didn't come across to question. Most of the men on board the ships in the Harbour would be in their foc'sles breakfasting and smoking and the like, and those that were on deck, and few enough at that hour, might be thinking of other things than people who were passing by. I don't see how else Miss Lucy Acton's not being seen or noticed can be accounted for." Maurice nodded, his face grave..
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