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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

"Our archery is
over-good, and they will not close. What defence can we make
against the stones?"
"I think I may trick them," the knight answered cheerfully, and
passed his order to the archers. Instantly five of them threw up
their hands and fell prostrate upon the deck. One had already
been slain by a bolt, so that there were but four upon their
feet.
"That should give them heart," said Sir Nigel, eyeing the
galleys, which crept along on either side, with a slow, measured
swing of their great oars, the water swirling and foaming under
their sharp stems.
"They still hold aloof," cried Hawtayne.
"Then down with two more," shouted their leader. "That will do.
Ma foi! but they come to our lure like chicks to the fowler. To
your arms, men! The pennon behind me, and the squires round the
pennon. Stand fast with the anchors in the waist, and be ready
for a cast. Now blow out the trumpets, and may God's benison be
with the honest men!"
As he spoke a roar of voices and a roll of drums came from either
galley, and the water was lashed into spray by the hurried beat
of a hundred oars.


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