"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. That’s one thing clear. "Were I in your place," said Smith, "I should be apprehensive of Wild, because he's a declared enemy.
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