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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

"
Tranter shrugged his shoulders. "You have done what you could to
save him, Harcomb," said he. "We had best settle at once."
"So say I," cried Alleyne.
"The council will not break up until the banquet," remarked a
gray-haired squire. "You have a clear two hours."
"And the place?"
"The tilting-yard is empty at this hour."
"Nay; it must not be within the grounds of the court, or it may
go hard with all concerned if it come to the ears of the prince."
"But there is a quiet spot near the river," said one youth. "We
have but to pass through the abbey grounds, along the armory wall,
past the church of St. Remi, and so down the Rue des Apotres."
"En avant, then!" cried Tranter shortly, and the whole assembly
flocked out into the open air, save only those whom the special
orders of their masters held to their posts. These unfortunates
crowded to the small casements, and craned their necks after the
throng as far as they could catch a glimpse of them.
Close to the banks of the Garonne there lay a little tract of
green sward, with the high wall of a prior's garden upon one side
and an orchard with a thick bristle of leafless apple-trees upon
the other.


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