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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"


Then with two done it would be strange if he could not find
occasion for that third one, which would complete his service and
set him free to look her in the face once more. With the great
yellow horse curveting beneath him, his Guildford armor gleaming
in the sun, his sword clanking against his stirrup-iron, and his
father's tough ash-spear in his hand, he rode with a light heart
and a smiling face, looking eagerly to right and to left for any
chance which his good Fate might send.
The road from Dinan to Caulnes, along which the small army was
moving, rose and dipped over undulating ground, with a bare marshy
plain upon the left where the river Rance ran down to the sea,
while upon the right lay a wooded country with a few wretched
villages, so poor and sordid that they had nothing with which to
tempt the spoiler. The peasants had left them at the first
twinkle of a steel cap, and lurked at the edges of the woods,
ready in an instant to dive into those secret recesses known only
to themselves. These creatures suffered sorely at the hands of
both parties, but when the chance came they revenged their wrongs
on either in a savage way which brought fresh brutalities upon
their heads.
The new-comers soon had a chance of seeing to what lengths they
would go, for in the roadway near to Caulnes they came upon an
English man-at-arms who had been waylaid and slain by them.


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