The strong potation he had taken, combined with fatigue and anxiety he had previously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light. " So saying, he raised a whistle to his lips, and blew a loud call; and, as this was unanswered, another still louder. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. “Forgive me,” he said.
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