"Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. And, now, to find a messenger. " "All right, then. Wood.
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