"Stand off my land!" the man said fiercely, heedless of the blood
which trickled freely from his fingers. "What have you to do
here? By your dress you should be one of those cursed clerks who
overrun the land like vile rats, poking and prying into other
men's concerns, too caitiff to fight and too lazy to work. By
the rood! if I had my will upon ye, I should nail you upon the
abbey doors, as they hang vermin before their holes. Art neither
man nor woman, young shaveling. Get thee back to thy fellows ere
I lay hands upon you: for your foot is on my land, and I may slay
you as a common draw-latch."
"Is this your land, then?" gasped Alleyne.
"Would you dispute it, dog? Would you wish by trick or quibble
to juggle me out of these last acres? Know, base-born knave,
that you have dared this day to stand in the path of one whose
race have been the advisers of kings and the leaders of hosts,
ere ever this vile crew of Norman robbers came into the land, or
such half-blood hounds as you were let loose to preach that the
thief should have his booty and the honest man should sin if he
strove to win back his own.
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