The pistol was lowered slightly. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house.
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