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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"The Path of the King"

Mr. Lovel set to work and mixed which a dose of spiced
oil and spirits which he coaxed down its throat. Then he very gently
massaged certain corded sinews in its belly. "Get him under cover now,
Tony," he said ``and tell your man to bed him warm and give him a bucket of
hot water strained from oatmeal and laced with this phial. In an hour he
will be easy."
The beast was led off, another put in its place, and the postilions were
cracking their whips, when out of the darkness a knot of mounted men rode
into the lamplight. There were at least a dozen of them, and at their head
rode a man who at the sight of Lovel pulled up sharp.
"Mr. Lovel!" he cried. "What brings you into these wilds in such weather?
Can I be of service? My house is not a mile off."
"I thank you, Colonel Flowerdue, but I think the mischief is now righted. I
go on a journey into Oxfordshire with my daughter, and the snow has delayed
us."
He presented the young Parliament soldier, a cousin of Fairfax, to Cecily
and Tony, the latter of whom eyed with disfavour the posse of grave
Ironside troopers.


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