twenty-long-years

Updated: July 27, 2025

"Thou hast won thy sovereign's gratitude, my man," said the King, kindly. "What be thy name?" The old fellow tried to speak, but the effort brought on another paroxysm of coughing. At last he managed to whisper. "Look at me. Dost thou not remember me? The foils the blow twenty-long-years. Thou spat upon me." Henry knelt and peered into the dying face. "De Vac!" he exclaimed. The old man nodded.

Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Outlaw of Torn