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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"

"
The famous knight took the spear when it was brought to him as a
master-workman takes a tool. He balanced it, shook it once or
twice in the air, ran his eyes down it for a flaw in the wood, and
then finally having made sure of its poise and weight laid it
carefully in rest under his arm. Then gathering up his bridle so
as to have his horse under perfect command, and covering himself
with the shield, which was slung round his neck, he rode out to do
battle.
Now, Nigel, young and inexperienced, all Nature's aid will not
help you against the mixed craft and strength of such a warrior.
The day will come when neither Manny nor even Chandos could sweep
you from your saddle; but now, even had you some less cumbrous
armor, your chance were small. Your downfall is near; but as you
see the famous black chevrons on a golden ground your gallant
heart which never knew fear is only filled with joy and amazement
at the honor done you. Your downfall is near, and yet in your
wildest dreams you would never guess how strange your downfall is
to be.
Again with a dull thunder of hoofs the horses gallop over the soft
water-meadow. Again with a clash of metal the two riders meet.
It is Nigel now, taken clean in the face of his helmet with the
blunted spear, who flies backward off his horse and falls clanging
on the grass.
But good heavens! what is this? Manny has thrown up his hands in
horror and the lance has dropped from his nerveless fingers.


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