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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

At this moment I have two pages coursing
after it from side to side, like hounds behind a leveret. Never
did living pig gambol more lightly. But you have sent for me,
Sir Nigel?"
"I would fain have your rede, Sir Oliver, for Master Hawtayne
hath fears that when we veer there may come danger from the hole
in our side."
"Then do not veer," quoth Sir Oliver hastily. "And now, fair
sir, I must hasten back to see how my rogues have fared with the
brawn."
"Nay, but this will scarce suffice," cried the shipman. "If we
do not veer we will be upon the rocks within the hour."
"Then veer," said Sir Oliver. "There is my rede; and now, Sir
Nigel, I must crave----"
At this instant, however, a startled shout rang out from two
seamen upon the forecastle. "Rocks!" they yelled, stabbing into
the air with their forefingers. "Rocks beneath our very bows!"
Through the belly of a great black wave, not one hundred paces to
the front of them, there thrust forth a huge jagged mass of brown
stone, which spouted spray as though it were some crouching
monster, while a dull menacing boom and roar filled the air.


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