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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"

In the other cell was a
graybearded man fettered to the wall, looking blankly before him,
a body without a soul, yet with life still in him, for his dull
eyes turned slowly in their direction. But it was from behind the
central door at the end of the passage that the chorus of sad
cries came which filled the air.
"Simon," said Nigel, "before we go farther we will take this outer
door from its hinges. With it we will block this passage so that
at the worst we may hold our ground here until help comes. Do you
back to the camp as fast as your feet can bear you. The peasants
will draw you upward through the hole. Give my greetings to Sir
Robert and tell him that the castle is taken without fail if he
comes this way with fifty men. Say that we have made a lodgment
within the walls. And tell him also, Simon, that I would counsel
him to make a stir before the gateway so that the guard may be
held there whilst we make good our footing behind them. Go, good
Simon, and lose not a moment!"
But the man-at-arms shook his head. "It is I who have brought you
here, fair sir, and here I bide through fair and foul. But you
speak wisely and well, for Sir Robert should indeed be told what
is going forward now that we have gone so far. Harding, do you go
with all speed and bear the gentle Nigel's message."
Reluctantly the man-at-arms sped upon his errand.


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