To his astonishment and delight it yielded to the pressure, toppled over the ledge, and sank. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner.
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