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"Yes, sir, he is on board the Victory. She is the one that is ahead of and to windward of the ship that has stun-sails set.",Frank lifted a wan face. "You mean——?" his dry lips formed the words.,Hinter's sigh of relief was inaudible to the boy. "That's a good resolve," he commended. "Stick to it; that swamp is a treacherous place.","Billy.",Old Greyquill, trudging on busy in thought with Mr Lawrence's debt, was moved by some idea of the man to look behind him. Mr Lawrence had disappeared. Quite discernible from where Greyquill stood was the sheet of paper Lawrence had let fall. Old Greyquill stopped, peered, reflected that it might be a letter that he himself had unconsciously been toying with and had dropped, or that in some other way had let fall from his pocket. He retraced the few steps that lay between and picked it up, and proceeded with it in one hand, whilst with the other he fumbled for his spectacle-case.,"I should like to know," he exclaimed, and every ear on board the schooner was bent to catch his accents, with the greed with which a crowd of men might be supposed to extend their hands to catch a shower of gold flung amongst them from a height, "if you have seen anything of the French Fleet under Admiral Villeneuve?","What I have to say," said Mr Lawrence, "will concern you—at least I think so. It will concern you very much indeed. Yesterday, [Pg 242]Captain Acton placed in my hands sealed orders with strict instructions to summon all hands and to read the document to you and the men, but on no account to break the seal before the ship had arrived at latitude twenty degrees north, and longitude—about—for we never can be sure of that—thirty degrees west.","Who'd be a sailor in the Merchant Service!" exclaimed General Groves.,The Admiral, Mr Fellowes, and the surgeon had come on board when the litter was being lowered, and stood in momentary pause beside it, whilst men were summoned to convey the wounded man to his father's cabin. Lucy swept round to the Admiral, and with her hands still clasped, cried to him softly: "Oh, Sir William, it is your son—I could not imagine—is he dying—will he die?","Oh shucks! What's the use of thinkin' 'bout that now? We've gotta catch them robbers first, ain't we?","What'll I tell Mr. Ringold?" asked Billy as he turned to go.,"No, I bored it but it belongs to Pennsylvania Scroggie, the man whom you helped defeat the Southern lease ring.".