'You have it, Barenleib!' cried the others, and then to Margarita: 'Look,
young mistress! we are poor fellows, and ask a trifle of ransom, and then
part friends.'
'Not an ace!' the Goshawk pronounced from his post.
'Two to one, remember.'
'The odds are ours,' replied the Goshawk confidently.
They ranged themselves in front of the hall-door. Instead of accepting
this challenge, Guy stepped to Werner, and laid his moaning foe
length-wise in an easier posture. He then lifted Margarita on the board,
and summoned them with cry of 'Free passage!' They answered by a sullen
shrug and taunt.
'Schwartz Thier! Rothhals! Farina! buckle up, and make ready then,' sang
Guy.
He measured the length, of his sword, and raised it. The Goshawk had not
underrated his enemies. He was tempted to despise them when he marked
their gradually lengthening chaps and eyeballs.
Not one of them moved. All gazed at him as if their marrows were freezing
with horror.
'What's this?' cried Guy.
They knew as little as he, but a force was behind them irresistible
against their efforts.
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