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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?>

<!DOCTYPE properties SYSTEM "http://java.sun.com/dtd/properties.dtd">

<properties>
  <entry key="cmd-0.short">A command that does nothing.</entry>
  <entry key="cmd-0.long"><![CDATA[
It was in the month of December, and all the country was covered
with snow to the depth of more than a foot.

The moon shone brightly over the pure white landscape, and, as far
as the eye could range, nought was to be seen but leafless trees,
which bowed and shook in a stiff north-west breeze, and their
melancholy flutterings seemed to be like gentle moans and sighings
at the white death-like pall which covered nature far and wide.

The pretty and picturesque village of Darlington was near the sea,
and not more than fifty or sixty miles from London, and was situated
in a pleasant valley on the main road, through which mail coaches
were wont to pass both night and day.

The inhabitants had been long a-bed, for the chimes of the village
church had tolled the solemn hour of midnight, and not a light
could be seen anywhere save at the “Black Bull,” for on that
memorable night some few of the villagers were celebrating the
Christmas holidays at the comfortable inn with a merry country
dance among themselves.

The sounds of fiddles and a flute, and the skipping of feet, could
be heard, both in the parlours and tap-room.

Merry laughter and boisterous jollity resounded on all sides,
and the light-hearted shouts of both men and maidens were caught
up and echoed by the passing breeze.

The night, though clear and bright, was bitter, bitter cold, and
every door and window of the “Black Bull” was firmly closed,
and many fires were crackling within.

On a bench outside the tavern, and in part concealed by the
deep shadows of its old, overhanging thatch-covered eaves, sat a
powerful-looking youth with stick and bundle.

He sat there listening to the music inside, and more than once
heaved a deep sigh.

It was almost impossible to see his features, but what little could
be discerned showed that he was a handsome-looking and powerfully
built rustic youth of about eighteen years of age.

He seemed desirous of remaining concealed in the deep shadows of
the house, for he crouched close under the shadow of the overhanging
roof.

If any one had been close enough to observe him they would have
perceived that this country-looking youth not only frequently
sighed but that more than once he hastily, and in an angry manner,
dashed away from his eye a stray tell-tale tear-drop that trickled
down his sun-burnt cheek.
]]></entry>
</properties>




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