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Updated: May 19, 2025
In a blinding light he saw the thing to do, and flashed to do it. "The lynch-pins!" Down he jumped, and dirk in hand raced for the tangle of horseflesh, black and white and heaving like an angry sea. Swift as he was, the Gentleman was swifter. Before the boy had touched ground, he was down from his perch, slashing at the tackle with his sword.
The hungry Voizin men heard voices in the darkness scoffing at them, laughter and sneers. When their carts were sent to fetch the necessaries of life, lynch-pins were loosened; in more than one case the draught oxen were houghed; the provisions, when received, were mouldy and unwholesome. At last sickness broke out, with stories of poison; then the tension became insupportable.
"You go for the lynch-pins!" He swept past, Polly in hand. "Forgive me, Jenny!" he cried; and thrust home. A spout of blood seemed to darken the sky, and deluge all. The wain brought up with a dreadful jerk. "Home, sir, if you can!" shouted Piper from his loop-hole. "Here's the Grannydears!" "Kit!" bawled the Parson. "Where are you?" The lad crept out from under the wain. "Got the lynch-pins?"
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