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when, just as our last note died among the trees one of us cried, "Listen!" and through the stillness there came from far away on our right the last three measures of a bugle sounding The March.

"Come!" I echoed. We swung into the broader road and followed the contrabands.

"I don't believe," said I, "I'd better put myself on the old gentleman when the mistress of the house is away."

"Of course no one has seen this despatch, eh?--Oh!"--a smile--"yes? who?"

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