Red Axe by S. R. (Samuel Rutherford) Crockett
page 13 of 421 (03%)
page 13 of 421 (03%)
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as the Duke in his black armor passed along, and that scarlet Shadow of
Death with the broad axe over his shoulder paced noiselessly behind him. For as each man looked into the eyes of Casimir of the Wolfsberg he read his doom. The Duke turned his wrist sharply down, whereupon the attendant sprites of the Red Shadow seized the man and rent his garment down from his neck--or the hand pointed up, and then the man set his hand to his heart and threw his head back in a long sigh of relief. It came the turn of the man who carried the babe. Duke Casimir paused before him, scowling gloomily at him. "Ha, Lord Prince of so great a province, you will not set yourself up any more haughtily. You will quibble no longer concerning tithes and tolls with Casimir of the Wolfmark." And the Duke lifted his hand and smote the man on the cheek with his open hand. Yet the captive only hushed the child that wailed aloud to see her guardian smitten. He looked Duke Casimir steadfastly in the eyes and spoke no word. "Great God, man, have you nothing to say to me ere you die?" cried Duke Casimir, choked with hot, sudden anger to be so crossed. The elder man gazed steadily at his captor. |
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