He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again.
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