Read "The Seven Streams" by Warwick Deeping online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Sea spray was blown upon the rocks of Holy Guard, the grey sky raved, the trees rocked and moaned upon the hills. Rain whirled with the wind. The towers and walls shook; doors chattered; gallery and court were full of the storm.
At midnight there came the cry of a trumpet from the troubled darkness of the night. Armed men were climbing the causeway with rain beating upon their faces, moisture clinging to their beards. There came the rattle of a spear staff on the great gate of the abbey, and again the trumpet challenged the dark walls, like the cry of a sea-bird driven by the storm.