You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter.
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