"Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. " That was true, thought Spurlock. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming.
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