’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille. I don’t know. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. We dressed it in a little music. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She stepped into his arms.
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