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"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. 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. Captain Roding either did not know, or did not remember that she had it.
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