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Stevenson, Robert Louis

"The Wrecker"

"I have to
ask all your pardons," he began again presently, "and
the more shame to me as I got ye into trouble and
couldn't do nothing when it came. Ye saved me life,
sir; ye're a clane shot."
"For God's sake, don't talk of it!" cried Carthew. "It
can't be talked of; you don't know what it was. It was
nothing down here; they fought. On deck--O my God!"
And Carthew, with the bloody sponge pressed to his
face, struggled a moment with hysteria.
"Kape cool, Mr. Cart'ew. It's done now," said Mac;
"and ye may bless God ye're not in pain, and helpless
in the bargain."
There was no more said by one or other, and the cabin
was pretty well cleansed when a stroke on the ship's
bell summoned Carthew to breakfast. Tommy had been
busy in the meanwhile; he had hauled the whaleboat
close aboard, and already lowered into it a small keg
of beef that he found ready broached beside the galley
door; it was plain he had but the one idea--to escape.
"We have a shipful of stores to draw upon," he said.
"Well, what are we staying for? Let's get off at once
for Hawaii.


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