"
"Do so," replied Sir Andrew, "if you live to pass this consecrated
sword," and he laid his hand upon its hilt. "Take with her also the
curse of the Mother of God, and His beloved Apostle, and that of the
whole Church of Christ, by me declared upon your head in this world and
upon your soul in the world to come. Man, this is sanctuary, and if you
dare to set foot within it in violence, may your body perish and your
soul scorch everlastingly in the fires of hell. And you," he added,
raising his voice till it rang like a trumpet, addressing the followers
of Sir John, "on you also let the curse of excommunication fall. Now
slay me and enter if you will, but then every drop of blood in these
veins shall find a separate tongue and cry out for vengeance on you
before the judgment seat of God, where presently I summon you to meet
me."
Then he crossed himself, drew the great sword, and, holding it in his
left hand, stretched out his right toward them in malediction.
The Clavering men heard and saw. They looked at each other, and, as
though by common consent, turned and rode away, crossing themselves
also. In truth, they had no stomach for the curse of the Church when it
was thundered forth from the lips of such a monk as Sir Andrew Arnold,
who, they knew well, had been one of the greatest and holiest warriors
of his generation, and, so said rumour, was a white wizard to boot with
all the magic of the East at his command.
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