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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"

"
The suggestion raised a general chorus of approval and laughter,
in which all joined, save only Sir Hubert himself, who, flushed
with anger, fixed his baleful eyes upon Chandos' mischievous and
smiling face.
"I said that I did not play that foolish game, and I know nothing
of its laws," said he; "but you know well, John, that if you would
have a bout with sharpened spear or sword, where two ride to the
ground, and only one away from it, you have not far to go to find
it."
"Nay, nay, would you ride to the ground? Surely you had best
walk, Hubert," said Chandos. "On your feet I know well that I
should not see your back as we have seen it to-day. Say what you
will, your horse has played you false, and I claim your suit of
harness for Nigel Loring."
"Your tongue is overlong, John, and I am weary of its endless
clack!" said Sir Hubert, his yellow mustache bristling from a
scarlet face. "If you claim my harness, do you yourself come and
take it. If there is a moon in the sky you may try this very
night when the board is cleared."
"Nay, fair sirs," cried the King, smiling from one to the other,
"this matter must be followed no further. Do you fill a bumper of
Gascony, John, and you also, Hubert. Now pledge each other, I
pray you, as good and loyal comrades who would scorn to fight save
in your King's quarrel. We can spare neither of you while there
is so much work for brave hearts over the sea.


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