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178 the other was riveted to a wounded man, a man in high fever, who babbled in his pain. He could distinguish other bodies lying near him.

"Where am I?" he cried.

"Hold your jaw!" said a hoarse voice, through the grating. "Hold your jaw. You're aboard the frigate Swallow, if you want to know. And you'll be hanged for a damned rogue to-morrow dawn."