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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"

No more than this will I ask of
thee.'
All men who heard her were moved to the heart by her kindness and the
sweetness of her voice, which was like to the robin singing suddenly
on a frosty morning of early winter. But as for Gold-mane, his heart
was smitten sorely by it, and her sorrow and her friendliness grieved
him out of measure.
But Iron-face answered after a little while, speaking slowly and
hoarsely, and with the shame yet clinging to him of a man who has
been wroth and has speedily let his wrath run off him. So he said:
'It is well, my daughter. I have no will to forswear myself; nor
hast thou asked me a thing which is over-hard. Yet indeed I would
that to-day were yesterday, or that many days were worn away.'
Then he stood up and cried in a loud voice over the throng:
'Let none forget the muster; but hold him ready against the time that
the Warden shall come to him. Let all men obey the War-leader, Face-
of-god, without question or delay. As to the fine of the peace-
breaker, it shall be laid on the altar of the God at the Great Folk-
mote. Herewith is the Thing broken up.'
Then all men shouted and clashed their weapons, and so sundered, and
went about their business.


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