But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. It was a haunted place. 'He that woos a maid',— fol-de-rol—(hiccupping). She sat herself upon the bed.
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