It was not enough to kill an enemy.

It pleased people to make--I speak literally--a football of his head, to throw his heart to the dogs.

And no doubt it had fallen in with the Vidame's grim humour that the bearer of Pavannes' first love letter should enter his mistress's presence, bleeding and plaistered with mud.

And that the riff-raff about our own gates should have part in the insult.
Bezers' wrath would be little abated by the issue of the affair, or the justice I had done on one of his men.

So we looked well to bolts, and bars, and windows, although the castle is well-nigh impregnable, the smooth rock falling twenty feet at least on every side from the base of the walls.