"Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. This was his humiliation as well as hers. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. "Souls," she answered, drily. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. Too much blood has been shed already. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet.
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