[The Brethren by H. Rider Haggard]@TWC D-Link bookThe Brethren CHAPTER Six: The Christmas Feast at Steeple 17/26
For there before them, skull-emblazoned, shield on arm, his long sword lifted, and a terrible wrath burning in his eyes, stood the old knight, like a wolf at bay, and by his side, bow in hand, the beauteous lady Rosamund, clad in all her festal broideries. "Yield you!" cried a voice.
By way of answer the bowstring twanged, and an arrow sped home to its feathers through the throat of the speaker, so that he went down, grabbing at it, and spoke no more for ever. As he fell clattering to the floor, Sir Andrew cried in a great voice: "We yield not to pagan dogs and poisoners.
A D'Arcy! A D'Arcy! Meet D'Arcy, meet Death!" Thus for the last time did old Sir Andrew utter the warcry of his race, which he had feared would never pass his lips again.
His prayer had been heard, and he was to die as he had desired. "Down with him! seize the Princess!" said a voice.
It was that of Georgios, no longer humble with a merchant's obsequious whine, but speaking in tones of cold command and in Arabic.
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