” She glared at him balefully. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. Mr. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss.
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