St. George and St. Michael by George MacDonald
page 81 of 626 (12%)
page 81 of 626 (12%)
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'Curse you for a roundhead!' he cried; 'you've twisted some of my
tackle. I can't stand.' 'I'm sorry,' returned Richard, 'but why did you bare bilbo on a naked man? A right malignant you are !' 'Did I?' returned Scudamore. 'You laid hands on me so suddenly! I ask your pardon.' Accepting the offered aid of Richard, he rose; but his right knee was so much hurt that he could not walk a step without great pain. Full of regret for the suffering he had caused, Richard lifted him in his arms, and seated him on a low wall of earth, which was all that here inclosed lady Vaughan's shrubbery; then, breaking through the hedge on the opposite side of the way, presently returned with the rapier, and handed it to him. Scudamore accepted it courteously, with difficulty replaced it in its sheath, rose, and once more attempted to walk, but gave a groan, and would have fallen had not Richard caught him. 'The devil is in it!' he cried, with more annoyance than anger. 'If I am not in my place at my lord's breakfast to-morrow, there will be questioning. That I had leave to accompany my mother makes the mischief. If I had stole away, it would be another matter. It will be hard to bear rebuke, and no frolic.' 'Come home with me,' said Richard. 'My father will do his best to atone for the wrong done by his son.' 'Set foot across the threshold of a roundhead fanatic! In the way of |
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