" "Help me through at all hazards, Poll," cried Jack, straining towards the opening. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it.
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