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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"Puck of Pook's Hill"


'We had him out, and rubbed him; we wrapped him in
a cloak, and gave him wine, and we leaned and looked
upon him, the while he drank. He was shivering,
but shameless.
'Of a sudden we heard jehan at the stairway wake, but
a boy pushed past him, and stood before us, the Hall-
rushes in his hair, all slubbered with sleep. "My father!
My father! I dreamed of treachery," he cried, and babbled thickly.
"'There is no treachery here," said Fulke. "Go!" and
the boy turned, even then not fully awake, and jehan led
him by the hand to the Great Hall.
"'Thy only son!" said De Aquila. "Why didst thou
bring the child here?"
"'He is my heir. I dared not trust him to my brother,"
said Fulke, and now he was ashamed. De Aquila said
nothing, but sat weighing a wine-cup in his two hands -
thus. Anon, Fulke touched him on the knee.
"'Let the boy escape to Normandy," said he, "and do
with me at thy pleasure. Yea, hang me tomorrow, with
my letter to Robert round my neck, but let the boy go."
"'Be still," said De Aquila. "I think for England."
'So we waited what our Lord of Pevensey should
devise; and the sweat ran down Fulke's forehead.


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