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Through a hole in the beaver I could see them clearly. They came on, rank after rank. They deployed, forming an open square, scarlet-sided, on the green turf, the gap toward me. Then came three, walking stiffly in black coats, a squad leading them. The thing I had taken for a white visor was a blindfold. Their heads were bare. I could see, now, they were in shackles, their arms behind them.
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