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Meredith, George, 1828-1909

"Farina"

There's a square tower, and a round.
I guess the maiden to be in the round. Now, lad, no crying out--You
don't come in with us; but back you go for the horses, and have them
ready and fresh in yon watered meadow under the castle. The path down
winds easy.'
'Man!' cried Farina, 'what do you take me for?--go you for the horses.'
'Not for a fool,' Guy rejoined, tightening his lip; 'but now is your time
to prove yourself one.'
'With you, or without you, I enter that castle!'
'Oh! if you want to be served up hot for the Baron's supper-mess, by all
means.'
'Thunder!' growled Schwartz Thier, 'aren't ye moving?'
The Goshawk beckoned Farina aside.
'Act as I tell you, or I'm for Cologne.'
'Traitor!' muttered the youth.
'Swearing this, that if we fail, the Baron shall need a leech sooner than
a bride.'
'That stroke must be mine!'
The Goshawk griped the muscle of Farina's arm till the youth was
compelled to slacken it with pain.
'Could you drive a knife through a six-inch wood-wall? I doubt this wild
boar wants a harder hit than many a best man could give. 'Sblood! obey,
sirrah. How shall we keep yon fellow true, if he sees we're at points?'
'I yield,' exclaimed Farina with a fall of the chest; 'but hear I nothing
of you by midnight--Oh! then think not I shall leave another minute to
chance. Farewell! haste! Heaven prosper you! You will see her, and die
under her eyes.


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