Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. " "Mother be——!" returned Jack. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister.
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