Commodore Junk — page 218: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PRISON LIFE. 211 have to fight for him, I suppose. Always my way—always my way.” He seated himself at the foot of the couch with his features distorted as if by pain, and for hour after hour watched the sleeper, telling himself that he could not do him harm, though all the time a jealous hatred approaching fury was burning in his breast. CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISON LIFE. “ Nor dying, Bart ?” ‘No, not exactly dying,” said that worthy in a low giow!l ; ‘but s’pose you shoots at and wings a gull, picks it up, and takes it, and puts it in a cage; the wound heals up, and the bird seems sound ; but after a time it don’t peck, and don’t preen its plumes, aud if it don’t beat itself again’ the bars o’ the cage, 1t sits and looks at the sea.” “ What do you mean } “What I says, captain; and, after a time, if you don’t let it go, that gull dies.” | ‘Then you mean that Captain Armstrong is pining away?” ‘That's it.” ‘‘ Has he any suspicion of who we are ?” “Not a bit.” “ And you think he is suffering for want of change 1” “Course I do. Anyone would—shut up in that dark place.” ‘Has he complained ?” nN 2 Gomilcbooks =