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The Tavern Knight

Chapter 6 COMPANIONS IN MISFORTUNE

Word Count: 2483    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

all that he was as hard and callous a man as any that ever buckled on a cuira

being broken into and plundered, and their inmates-resisting or unresisting; armed or unarmed; men, women and children alike were pitilessly being put to the sword. Charged was the air of Worcester with the din of that fierce ma

emy of the slayers, and the shrieks of agony, the

for the while forgot his own sorry condition, and left unheeded th

rably large house. Its doors hung wide, and across the threshol

iddle height, red and coarse of countenance and large of nose, who stood fully armed in the centre of the chamber. His head was uncovered, and on the table at his side st

uired at length, his scruti

s to have earned him a soldier's

ed the man's identity-"that single-handed I held my own against you and a score of you curs, and that not until I had cut down seve

ing his foot. "Peace, or I'll have you gagge

ung man, Charles Stuart, making good his escape when otherwise he must have fallen into their hands. He accused him also of the mur

ression in a form that was little

e offence," said he. "The other one is a young fool who gave Charles Stuart hi

" cried Crispin. "N

at him blankly f

By the same crowning mercy in which the Lord hath vouchsafed us victory to-day shall He also deliver the malignant youth into my hands. For your share in retardi

any," said Crispin pleasantly, "and

without heeding the interruption, "and I pray that you may spend i

" exclaimed Pr

at

s half-whispered words were earnest a

s the fortune of war. Let the thought that your son died in a godly cause be of comfort to you. Bear in

nmoved figure of the Tavern Knight in malice and vindictiveness. Then, shrugging his

when that was done the officer again led the way, and Crispin followed between two troopers. They made him mount three flights of stairs, and hurried him along a passage to a door by which a soldier

ed and made fast again behind him. His stout heart sank a little as he realized that that closed door shut out to him the world for e

d he started, to see that he was not alone, remembering that

ull voice-a voice that

the King your horse at the Saint Martin's Gate! May Heaven reward you. Gadswo

not!" was the doleful ans

ands are all but run. The Lord General-whom the devil roast in his time will m

to the light, and eyed

nions in misf

f better cheer. Since it is to be our last night in thi

asan

jack over which to relish our last jest, and to warm us against the night air, which must be chill in this garret. Bu

Have you no thou

ain prepare me for the morning's dance in a more jovial

indecent flippancy at such a time. Just then the thought of spending the night in

he window itself. The house overlooked the river on that side; it was built upon an embankment some thirty feet high; around this, at the base of the edifice, and some forty feet below the window, ran a narrow pathway protected by an iron railing. But so na

"we will hang, and th

ely young face seared with lines of pain. As Crispin looked upon him then, his heart softened and went out t

godless ruffler that he was. He thought of the gulf that gradually had opened up between them. The lad was righteous and God-fearing, truthful and sober, filled with stern ideals by which he sought to shape hi

y, he realized that he had used him ill, that his behaviour towards him had been that of the

looked up in surprise. "I have heard tell that it is no uncommon thing for men upon t

proaching end. The ruffler paused a moment, as if awaiting a re

ade them, lack in death the courage to stand by that life's deeds. I am no such traitor to myself. If my life has been vile my temptations have been sore, and the rest is in God's hands. But in my course I have sinned against many men; many a tall fellow's life have I wantonly wrecked; some, indeed, I have even taken in wantonness or anger. They are

never known other than arrogant and mocking. "I beseech you, say no more. For what trifling wrongs you may have done

ourable and true. But let that be. The sun is setting over yonder, and you and I will behold it no more. That to me is a small thing. I am weary. Hope is dead; and when that is dead what does it signify that the body die also? Yet in these last hours that we shall spend together I would at least have your esteem. I would have you forget m

e lad sh

and by giving my thoughts utterance it may be that they will take more vivid shape. For the rest my tale may wi

tone of Galliard's so wrought upon him then that he was almost eager in his request tha

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