To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. “I wonder if I’ve been properly brought up. It ought not to be much. " "Odd's me! do you think so?" cried the host of the Trumpeter. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack.
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