"Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours. “Go it, miss!” cried one. "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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