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He knehat he had done, then Before his horse's iron shoes struck the

ground again, his face--even his face--had lost its colour But he knew

also that to hesitate now, to pause noas to be torn in pieces; for

his riders, seeing that which the banner had veiled from him, had not

followed him, and he was alone, in the middle of brandished fists and

weapons He hesitated not aa pistol, he spurred

onwards, his horse plunging wildly ah a hundred hands, hands of acolytes, hands of shaven monks,

clutched at his bridle or gripped his boot, he got clear of the with him the memory of one face seen an instant amid the crowd,

one face seen, to be ever remembered--the face of Father Pezelay, white,

evil, scarred, distorted by wicked triue!" rose to Heaven, and

In front the crohich skirnorant of the thing that had happened in the

narrow street,before the

look on his face Soun to