What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. "You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father, Aliva," he said. Most of the mob were armed with pikes, staves, swords, muskets, and other weapons, and offered a most desperate resistance to the soldiery, whom they drove back with a shower of paving-stones. "I yield to fate.
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