But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. But it's an odd case. And don't neglect my instructions this time. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice.
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