Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. As he passed the Six Bells, he noticed the steeds of the two horsemen at the door; and glancing into the house, perceived the younger of the two in the passage. .
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