Begin, and, Gilbert, - I have heard thou art
somewhat careless - do not twist his words from his true
meaning."
'So - fear of death in the dark being upon him - Fulke
began, and Gilbert, not knowing what his fate might be,
wrote it word by word. I have heard many tales, but
never heard I aught to match the tale of Fulke his
black life, as Fulke told it hollowly, hanging in the shaft.'
'Was it bad?' said Dan, awestruck.
'Beyond belief,' Sir Richard answered. 'None the less,
there was that in it which forced even Gilbert to laugh.
We three laughed till we ached. At one place his teeth so
chattered that we could not well hear, and we reached
him down a cup of wine. Then he warmed to it, and
smoothly set out all his shifts, malices, and treacheries,
his extreme boldnesses (he was desperate bold); his
retreats, shufflings, and counterfeitings (he was also
inconceivably a coward); his lack of gear and honour; his
despair at their loss; his remedies, and well-coloured
contrivances. Yes, he waved the filthy rags of his life
before us, as though they had been some proud banner.
When he ceased, we saw by torches that the tide stood at
the corners of his mouth, and he breathed strongly
through his nose.
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