Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. I’ll give you grandpére!’ ‘But milor’—’ ‘Pardon!’ No longer master of his actions, the general lurched forward, waving his cane.
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