"Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. And, snatching the spike from Thames, he struck the janizary a severe blow on the head. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. He had a peculiar way of stepping in, in a parry; knew his arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and never let his opponent escape.
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