I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. Mr. Just then—I was nervous. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. It is a big house and there are many rooms in which to hide.
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