Explore "The Lady of Blossholme" by H. Rider Haggard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For a while Sir John and his retainer rode in silence. Then he laughed loudly.
"Jeffrey," he called, "that was a near touch. Sir Priest was minded to stick his Spanish pick-tooth between our ribs, and shrive us afterwards, as we lay dying, to salve his conscience."