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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"

Would that I could do what you ask, for I
also have a fair lady to whom I would fain send you. What use are
you to me, Raoul, since I have gained no honor in the taking of
you? How is it with you now?"
The young Frenchman had risen to his feet. "Do not take my
sword," he said. "I am yours, rescue or no rescue. I think now
that I could mount my horse, though indeed my head still rings
like a cracked bell."
Nigel had lost all traces of his comrades; but he remembered Sir
Robert's words that he should ride upon the sun with the certainty
that sooner or later he would strike upon the road. As they
jogged slowly along over undulating hills, the Frenchman shook off
his hurt and the two chatted merrily together.
"I had but just come from France," said he, "and I had hoped to
win honor in this country, for I have ever heard that the English
are very hardy men and excellent people to fight with. My mules
and my baggage are at Evran; but I rode forth to see what I could
see, and I chanced upon your army moving down the road, so I
coasted it in the hopes of some profit or adventure. Then you
came after me and I would have given all the gold goblets upon my
father's table if I had my harness so that I could have turned
upon you. I have promised the Countess Beatrice that I will send
her an Englishman or two to kiss her hands."
"One might perchance have a worse fate," said Nigel.


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