And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjE0NS4xNTAgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDE4OjAwOjMxIC0gMjk0NTcyNzg3
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