She would never return to her father; that resolution was final. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. "Set your prisoner free!" returned Wood. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him.
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