Читать книгу Cardinal Pole; Or, The Days of Philip and Mary. An Historical Romance онлайн

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“Besides the hundred rose-nobles each that we are to have for the deed,” cried one of his comrades.

“I would do the deed for nothing,” shouted another of the band, “for it will redound to our credit. So have at him!”

“Harkye, young Sir,” cried the leader of the band, addressing Osbert. “We do not desire your life—nay, we would willingly spare you. Our sole object is to crush this spawn of hell. Retire, and leave him to our justice.”

“Think you I will stand tamely by and see you execute your ruthless purpose?” cried young Clinton. “No; I will defend the Prince to my last gasp.”

“Your blood be upon your own head, then,” rejoined the ruffian. “Upon them, comrades! Strike, and spare not.”

“Thou, at least, will never be executioner,” cried the Prince.

And as the ruffian made a desperate lunge at him, he dexterously caught his sword in the hanging part of his cloak, and returning with a full thrust, transfixed his antagonist with his rapier.

“This comes of Spanish practices,” groaned the wretch, as he fell to the ground. “Had he fought like an Englishman, without the cloak, I had killed him. Revenge me, comrades,” he added, with his last breath.