That trap will bring down a horse or twain.

Be quick, you Scotch wine-bag!" I had seen many ill things done, and, to my shame, had held my peace.

But a Leslie of Pitcullo does not take purses on the high-road.

Therefore my heart rose in sudden anger, I having all day hated him more and more for his bitter tongue, and I was opening my mouth to cry "A secours!"-- a warning to them who were approaching, when, quick as lightning, Brother Thomas caught me behind the knee-joints, and I was on the ground with his weight above me.

One cry I had uttered, when his hand was on my mouth.
"Give him the steel in his guts!" whispered the blind man.
"Slit his weasand, the Scotch pig!" said the one-armed soldier.
They were all on me now.
"No, I keep him for better sport," snarled Brother Thomas.