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Painfully dampen the monks slumped in the heat of the blaze, and then return to the abbey, worried and fearful of the terrible awaiting Sweden.
In Tann near the road’s south is alive, in from all sides on secret paths and farmers rush guy and wait in the sunken road, well hidden behind tree trunks, the suit of their tormentors, and the command of the attack Pelagiers Eusebius. By word of mouth is the customer left, that Eusebius shot the captain and two officers from the embassy did suit the Swedes, so it must be assumed that the French will take the flight to the Schiltach. From each farm fortified men have come, as the flames leaped up signal, and silently awaiting their number two hundred men, though poorly armed, the Musketeers.
Like sheep they are running in the storm approached by torchlight and penetrate into the ravine, where they must join by the narrow rocky road is sealed.
A shrill whistle drowned out by the dark Tann, there’s a rustling in the woods, on the rocky edges appear black figures, throwing down the stones and granite blocks in the midst of the Musketeers. Woes, shouts, shouted commands emanate from the canyon. With flails, scythes, flails, cut old guns at the output of the ring road, the peasants fleeing to the French, by Eusebius in advance and then quickly erected wooden inflamed joints for light relief work. Schreck Meets investigated some of the soldiers to