Striking out his foot, he knocked half a dozen teeth down the janizary's throat; and, seconding the kick with a blow on the head from the butt-end of the pistol, stretched him, senseless and bleeding on the ground. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile.
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