. "I cannot do it. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words.
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