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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

Sir Nigel
stooped to avoid it, and at the same instant turned a thrust from
the Genoese swordsman, but, his foot slipping in a pool of blood,
he fell heavily to the ground. Alleyne sprang in front of the
Norman, but his sword was shattered and he himself beaten to the
ground by a second blow from the ponderous weapon. Ere the
pirate chief could repeat it, however, John's iron grip fell upon
his wrist, and he found that for once he was in the hands of a
stronger man than himself.
Fiercely he strove to disengage his weapon, but Hordle John bent
his arm slowly back until, with a sharp crack, like a breaking
stave, it turned limp in his grasp, and the mace dropped from the
nerveless fingers. In vain he tried to pluck it up with the
other hand. Back and back still his foeman bent him, until, with
a roar of pain and of fury, the giant clanged his full length
upon the boards, while the glimmer of a knife before the bars of
his helmet warned him that short would be his shrift if he moved.
Cowed and disheartened by the loss of their leader, the Normans
had given back and were now streaming over the bulwarks on to
their own galley, dropping a dozen at a time on to her deck.


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