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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"


"Then we must be off. Adieu, ma vie! The two livres shall
settle the score and buy some ribbons against the next kermesse.
Do not forget Sam Aylward, for his heart shall ever be thine
alone--and thine, ma petite! So, marchons, and may St. Julian
grant us as good quarters elsewhere!"
The sun had risen over Ashurst and Denny woods, and was shining
brightly, though the eastern wind had a sharp flavor to it, and
the leaves were flickering thickly from the trees. In the High
Street of Lyndhurst the wayfarers had to pick their way, for the
little town was crowded with the guardsmen, grooms, and yeomen
prickers who were attached to the King's hunt. The King himself
was staying at Castle Malwood, but several of his suite had been
compelled to seek such quarters as they might find in the wooden
or wattle-and-daub cottages of the village. Here and there a
small escutcheon, peeping from a glassless window, marked the
night's lodging of knight or baron. These coats-of-arms could be
read, where a scroll would be meaningless, and the bowman, like
most men of his age, was well versed in the common symbols of
heraldry.


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