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Roby, John

"Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 1 (of 2)"


"False pilgrim," growled his adversary, "didst think to foist thy
fooleries upon me! The dungeon walls will give thee a patient hearing.
Boast to them of thy descent, and when they acknowledge thee, so will I.
Guards, to your duty."
Lady Mabel, with a loud and appalling shriek, fell senseless on the
pavement.
In vain did Sir William endeavour to free himself from the rude grasp of
his conductors. He was hurried along, nor did there appear the remotest
possibility of escape. Just as they turned into a sort of corridor,
leading to the passages more immediately connected with the place of
their destination, they encountered Humphry Lathom. The same
half-stupid, half-knavish expression of face was now lighted up by a
grin of apparently inexplicable amazement.
"Eh, nuncle," said he, stroking his beard, "but you're in mighty grace.
The Welshman always mounts his he-goats for guard on them he delighteth
to honour." With one of his more than ordinarily elvish and malicious
shouts he scampered past the enraged sentinels, and was heard rapidly
ascending the steps of the great tower, beneath the massive foundations
of which lay the dark and cheerless abode so unexpectedly destined for
the reception of its owner.


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