"Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. "Nothin'—nothin'," returned Blueskin; "only I thought—" "You saw the hangman, no doubt," said Jack. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold.
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