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A young man joins the citizens of the Spanish city of Zaragoza in defending against an attack by the French.

Page 139 of 248
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thinking to get a chance at the gold of the rich Candiola, he was at least freed from the annoyance of their immediate presence, and the sneers and cruel jests with which he had been tormented.

“Señor soldier,” he said to me, “I am grateful to you for putting this vile mob to flight. Here my house is burned and no one helps me. Are there no authorities now in Saragossa, señor? What a people! What a people! It is not because we have not paid our taxes.”

“The civil authorities do not occupy themselves except with the military operations,” I answered him; “and so many houses have been destroyed that it is impossible to run to them all.”

“May he be cursed a thousand times!” he cried, “a thousand curses be on the head of him who has brought all this distress upon us! May he be tormented in hell for a thousand eternities, and then he would not pay the penalty of his crime. But what the devil are you looking for here, señor soldier? Are you not willing to leave me in peace?”

“I have

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