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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Valley of Decision"

He felt, too, a boyish satisfaction at his
own steadiness of pulse and eye, at the absence of that fatal inertia
which he had come to dread. So clear was his mental horizon that it
embraced not only the present crisis, but a dozen incidents leading up
to it. He remembered that Trescorre had urged him to take a larger
escort, and that he had refused on the ground that any military display
might imply a doubt of his people. He was glad now that he had done so.
He would have hated to slink to his carriage behind a barrier of drawn
swords. He wanted no help to see him through this business. The blood
sang in his veins at the thought of facing it alone.
The silence lasted but a moment; then an image of the Mountain Virgin
was suddenly thrust in air, and a voice cried out: "Down with our Lady's
enemies! We want no laws against the friars!"
A howl caught up the words and tossed them to and fro above the seething
heads. Images of the Virgin, religious banners, the blue-and-white of
the Madonna's colours, suddenly canopied the crowd.
"We want the Barnabites back!" sang out another voice.
"Down with the free-thinkers!" yelled a hundred angry throats.
A stone or two sped through the air and struck the sculptures of the
porch.
"Your Highness!" cried the equerry who stood nearest, and would have
snatched the Duke back within doors.
For all answer, Odo stepped clear of the porch and advanced to the edge
of the steps. As he did so, a shower of missiles hummed about him, and a
stone struck him on the lip.


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