Chapter VI.
O! It is great for our country to die, where ranks are contending;Bright is the wreath of our fame; Glory awaits us for aye--Glory, that never is dim, shining on with light never ending--Glory, that never shall fade, never, O! never away.
Percival.
Notwithstanding the startling intelligence that had so unexpectedly reached it, and the warm polemical conflict that had been carried on within its walls, the night passed peacefully...
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