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Narrative Resumed by Jim Hawkins: The Garrison in the Stockade

           "Well,"saidI,"IbelieveIunderstand.Youhavesomethingtopropose,andyouwishtoseethesquireorthedoctor,andyou’retobefoundwhereIfoundyou.Isthatall?"

           "Andwhen?saysyou,"headded."Why,fromaboutnoonobservationtoaboutsixbells."

           "Good,"saidI,"andnowmayIgo?"

           "Youwon’tforget?"heinquiredanxiously."Precioussight,andreasonsofhisown,saysyou.Reasonsofhisown;that’sthemainstay;asbetweenmanandman.Well,then"stillholdingme"Ireckonyoucango,Jim.And,Jim,ifyouwastoseeSilver,youwouldn’tgofortosellBenGunn?Wildhorseswouldn’tdrawitfromyou?No,saysyou.Andifthempiratescampashore,Jim,whatwouldyousaybutthere’dbewiddersinthemorning?"

           Herehewasinterruptedbyaloudreport,andacannonballcametearingthroughthetreesandpitchedinthesandnotahundredyardsfromwherewetwoweretalking.Thenextmomenteachofushadtakentohisheelsinadifferentdirection.

           Foragoodhourtocomefrequentreportsshooktheisland,andballskeptcrashingthroughthewoods.Imovedfromhiding-placetohiding-place,alwayspursued,orsoitseemedtome,bytheseterrifyingmissiles.Buttowardstheendofthebombardment,thoughstillIdurstnotventureinthedirectionofthestockade,wheretheballsfelloftenest,Ihadbegun,inamanner,topluckupmyheartagain,andafteralongdetourtotheeast,creptdownamongtheshore-sidetrees.

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