"The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. " And seizing her by the hair, he pulled back her head, and drew the knife with all his force across her throat. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter.
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