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'Certes, said Walter, 'and, methinks, also our prayers that his heart may be turned from the error of his ways, and that he may return to the faith which Christians hold. 'Amen, replied Bisset. 'But tell me, sir knight, continued Walter, eagerly, what has happened, since that dreadful day, to the pilgrim army? and if you know aught of my brother-in-arms, Guy Muschamp?
He looked into the cottage as well as the palace, and he has given some account of both. By BISSET HAWKINS, M.D., Oxon., F.R.S., &c. 10s. 6d. Octavo. Nearly Ready. Uniformly with Three Weeks in Palestine and Lebanon. THREE WEEKS IN PALESTINE AND LEBANON. With many Engravings. 3s. A little volume from the Traveller's notes.
The melancholy thrumming of the telegraph wires droned by his side all the while, and as this dirge waxed for the moment as they passed each post, his eye would glance grimly at those gaunt poles. Very suitable and handy for a certain purpose, they struck him if by any possibility this tale were true. He knew the worst when he saw Bisset at the door.
As he spurred forward to pursue his success, his steed became refractory, and he was flung violently to the ground. Ere his friends could come to his aid, the Saracens gave him several blows with their clubs, and he would have been killed on the spot but for the arrival of Bisset, with Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec, who, having mounted, now came with a rush to the rescue.
"God, but that fits into my other deductions fine!" cried Bisset. "I hadna thought of that. Just wait, sir, till you see how the case is going to hang together in a minute." "But how did Sir Reginald's body come to be lying near the door?" The philosopher seemed to be inspired afresh. "The man clearly meant to take it away and hide it somewhere that'll be just it!
He was lying between sleeping and waking, when a quiet step and cautious knock made him call out, 'Come in, Jack. 'Your sister wants to know if you are better, and ready for some tea. 'Thank you, I'm mending. Is Wilmet come home? 'Yes, but only to become the prey of an ancient female. 'Mrs. Bisset! Come to inspect you! 'She won't, then! Shall I get you some tea? 'No, thank you.
"What its importance is, it's hard to say, but it's a fact, and seems to me well worth noting." "It is noted," said the Procurator Fiscal drily. "But I can't see that it leads anywhere." "Bisset maintains it implies Sir Reginald fell over it when he was struck down; and that seems to me pretty likely." Simon shook his head.
"Servants are uneducated creatures," said Bisset contemptuously. "And women at the best have just the ae' thought who's gaun to be fool enough to marry next? They were always gossiping about Mr. Malcolm and Miss Cicely, but there was never what I should call a data to found a deduction on; not for a sensible person.
He sat in it and looked slowly round the darkened, candle-lit library. "Now," said he, "suppose I was Sir Reginald, and there came a tap at that window, what would I do?" "If you were the master, sir, you'd go straight to the windie to see who it was." "I wouldn't get in a funk and ring the bell?" "No fears!" said Bisset confidently.
At one moment he rushed like lightning among the Saracens, scattered them, and cut them down. Then after reining back to the wall to draw out the arrows and darts that adhered to his cuirass, he returned to the charge, rising in his stirrups, and shouting 'Chatillon, knights Chatillon to the rescue. Meanwhile Bisset exerted himself with no less courage and prowess.
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