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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"


'Why, you drunken fool,' he said wrathfully, 'put that stick
down, or I will spit you like a lark!'
'Lark in your teeth!' I cried, staggering as if the wine were in
my head. 'And cuckoo, too! Another word, and I--'
He made a couple of savage passes at me, but in a twinkling his
sword flew across the room.
'VOILA!' I shouted, lurching forward, as if I had luck and not
skill to thank for my victory. 'Now, the next! Come on, come
on--you white-livered knaves!' And, pretending a drunken frenzy,
I flung my weapon bodily amongst them, and seizing the nearest,
began to wrestle with him.
In a moment they all threw themselves upon me, and, swearing
copiously, bore me back to the door. The wine merchant cried
breathlessly to the woman to open it, and in a twinkling they had
me through it, and half-way across the road. The one thing I
feared was a knife-thrust in the MELEE; but I had to run that
risk, and the men were honest, and, thinking me drunk, indulgent.
In a trice I found myself on my back in the dirt, with my head
humming; and heard the bars of the door fall noisily into their
places.


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