" "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian.
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