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From: | Robbie Garner |
Subject: | [Info-gne] revolutionary east |
Date: | Sat, 2 Sep 2006 11:11:44 +0200 |
I am summoned to my trial at Kirk Aller in a weeks
time. Clearly he knew her, for he picked up a reed fromthe floor. It was thethird
day of April, but there was no sign of spring. And do not forget to pray for a
change in thislamentable weather. Meantime he could fend for himself,and cook what
food he needed. The Lord haddemanded a sacrifice, but the sacrifice was not yet
complete, theman had said. The numbness of loss, the languor of fear, gave placeto
recrimination.
You are the one man in Woodilee who has courage,
David said. Im off this verra day to Moffat, and Ill noset foot in Woodilee till the
pest has gane.
But it was the house of Calidon thatprovided the
main necessaries.
The pest seemed merely to add rottingcarcasses to
rotting souls. You mayhave to put reason into the folk with the flat of your
sword.
There is the one whom we nowcall Mark Riddel. From
Amos Ritchie he had a different answer. I fear no ill, for I am inthe Lords hand
till His appointed time. Though the air was cooland tonic, beast and man sweated
with the smallest exertion.
Once, coming at night up the manse loan, he heard
footsteps on thedry earth approaching him. A word of Chasehopes stuck evilly in his
memory. To-day the world was still clamped inbonds, and death was in the bare trees
and the leaden sky. Think shame, man, to be such a whingeing bairn.
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