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‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. There were swift actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. ‘I’m a soldier, missie.
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