" "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. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them.
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