His face was white. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. Entranced, he stared at the name. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. I haven’t, anyhow.
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