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Ashton, Warren T.

"Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue"


Henry returned to his couch with many painful doubts as to the morality,
and even the expediency, of his course. But the feeling of honor--of
false honor--comforted him, and, animated by its spirit, he even looked
forward with pleasure upon his revenge,--upon the death of his opponent.
This would be in accordance with the justice of the case, and he
flattered himself that justice, if it did not always prevail, would
triumph in this instance. With such reflections he closed his eyes, and
sunk to his slumbers.
The Chalmetta moved lazily on her course. Her lights had all been
extinguished, and the idlers, who a few hours before had paced the
decks, were now slumbering in their berths, or on the cabin floor. The
clock over the clerk's office indicated the hour of twelve. On the main
deck forward the sleepy firemen were languidly supplying the furnaces;
the engineers, less actively employed, had fallen asleep by the
cylinders.
On the after quarter, laying flat upon the deck, were two men earnestly
engaged in conversation, in which the whispered brogue of Pat Fegan
might have been detected.


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