His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. "Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep these devils down. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance.
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