‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. \"I guess so.
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