‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. “He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, and great horrid hands. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. “What are you doing?” he asked. “It’s very late.
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