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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 9 of 248
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I

went to school together, and we played our games together on the hills of Corregidor. It is thirty years since I have seen him, but I believe that he will receive us well. Like every good Aragonese, he is all heart. We will find him, fellows; we will see Don José de Montoria. I am of his blood on the maternal side. We will present ourselves to him. We will say⁠—”

But Don Roque was asleep, and I also slept.

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