To-night they say he will be conscious. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ” “Then come back. Saviour's Stairs. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack.
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