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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

Hard he was of hand and harder of
heart, hated by his foes, and yet not loved by those whom he
protected, for twice he had been taken prisoner, and twice his
ransom had been wrung by dint of blows and tortures out of the
starving peasants and ruined farmers. Wolves or watch-dogs, it
was hard to say from which the sheep had most to fear.
The Castle of Villefranche was harsh and stern as its master. A
broad moat, a high outer wall turreted at the corners, with a
great black keep towering above all--so it lay before them in the
moonlight. By the light of two flambeaux, protruded through the
narrow slit-shaped openings at either side of the ponderous gate,
they caught a glimpse of the glitter of fierce eyes and of the
gleam of the weapons of the guard. The sight of the two-headed
eagle of Du Guesclin, however, was a passport into any fortalice
in France, and ere they had passed the gate the old border knight
came running forwards with hands out-thrown to greet his famous
countryman. Nor was he less glad to see Sir Nigel, when the
Englishman's errand was explained to him, for these archers had
been a sore thorn in his side and had routed two expeditions
which he had sent against them.


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