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Caradoc was betrothed to Guimier, sister to his bosom friend, Cador, and daughter to the king of Cornwall. As soon as they were informed of his deplorable condition, they set out for Nantes, where Caradoc's castle was, that Guimier might attend upon him. When Caradoc heard of their coming, his first emotion was that of joy and love.
"What, against his own brother?" cried Edwin. "Against his own brother, if we convince but his reason," returned the Anglo-Dane. And the other chiefs nodded assent. Caradoc's fierce eyes flashed fire; but he played with his torque, and spoke not.
"O-o-h!" dragged out Madden in a low voice, comprehending the man before him for the first time. "So they are called remittance men always remitted to." Caradoc's long fever-worn face, that was filling out in convalescence, colored momentarily.
Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out with a crack against the shorter man's forehead. Greer made no sign of having received a blow, although a dull red splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led another right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through with a stinging left to the hairy chest. "Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal.
A head bobbed up near Madden, and Caradoc's voice observed collectedly. "They're chewing it up with a machine gun. You'd better dive again travel most of the way to the tug under water. They'll be picking us up, one at a time, in a moment, with the same stream of steel."
First in the Abbey of Westminster at Saint Edward's shrine remaineth the print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl, in which is written 'Patricius Arthurus, Britanniae Galliae Germaniae Daciae Imperator. Item, in the castle of Dover ye may see Gawain's skull and Caradoc's mantle; at Winchester the round table; in other places Lancelot's sword, and many other things.
Yonder!" he bellowed in Caradoc's ear, pointing. Again the guns shrilled forth; a steel sleet wailed about the Vulcan. Into the teeth of this blast, the tug circled and lunged. With fascinated eyes, Madden watched the periscope cut a swirling circle on the midst of the beaten water and straighten on the Panther. Now the metal eye was directly under their swaying starboard.
"Somehow I still call him a gentleman. He's hurt, sick, bruised, but he's a gentleman." "Well I don't!" At that moment, the buoy under Caradoc's head bumped into a wooden wall and upset their swimming arrangements. They were under the overhang of the mysterious schooner. Waves from the exhausted swimmers sent bright streaks of watershine wavering up the green hull over Madden's head.
"To your well-earned promotion, Wentworth!" they chorused heartily. In the lull of drinking, Madden lifted his water to his friend. "Here's to the remittance man," he proposed solemnly, "who vanishes to-night and leaves a Man." Caradoc's long face was deeply moved as he looked into the eyes of the youth whose life Providence had so intimately entwined with his own.
Madden whirled his head for a glance aft. The same sort of drama was taking place amidship, boarders were climbing over the rail and arms, sticks, and iron spikes snapped out of the inky shadows and smote them. The invaders fired blindly into the darkness that rimmed the deck. As to whether they were killing or maiming Caradoc's crew, Madden could not tell.
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