Our men had him fast, held down in a chair. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. As he understood it, folks saw in two or three days all there was to see of Canton. Seeing from the threatening looks of his captors, that they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him, the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms, and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes. Then she sang. You must forgive the poet’s license I take.
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