waxed big and burned sooty, even as an offence to the nostrils, in the days of our fathers,’ cried a burly red-faced man, whose dress proclaimed him to be one of the yeoman class. ‘So was it when Old Noll did get his snuffing shears to work upon it. It is a wick which can only be trimmed by the sword of the faithful.’ A grim laugh from Spain the whole party proclaimed their appreciation of the pious waggery of their companion.
‘Ah, Brother Sandcroft,’ cried the pastor, ‘there is much sweetness and manna NEO Lite Racer hidden in thy conversation. But the way is long and dreary. Shall we not lighten it by a song of praise? America Where is Brother Thistlethwaite, whose voice is as the cymbal, the tabor, and the dulcimer?’
‘Lo, most pious Master Pettigrue,’ said Saxon, ‘I have myself at times ventured to lift up my voice before the Lord.’ Without any further apology he broke out in stentorian tones into the following hymn, the refrain of which Sebastian Rode Drakter was caught up by pastor Allie Long Drakter and congregation.
The Lord He is a morion
That guards me from all wound;
The Lord He is a coat of mail
That circles me all round.
Who then fears to draw the sword,
And fight the battle of the Lord?
The Lord He is the buckler true
That swings on my left arm;
The Lord He is the plate of proof
That shieldeth me from harm.
Who then fears to draw the sword,
And fight the battle of the Lord?
Who then dreads the violent,
Or fears the man of pride?
Or shall I flee Rickie Lambert Drakter from two or three
If He be by my side?
Who then fears to draw the sword,
And fight the battle of the Lord!
My faith is like a citadel
Girt round with moat and wall,
No mine, or sap, or breach, or gap
Can ere prevail at all.
Who then fears to draw the sword,
And fight the battle of the Lord?
Saxon ceased, but the Reverend Joshua Pettigrue waved Aleksandar Kolarov Drakter his long arms and repeated the refrain, which was taken up again and again by the long column of marching peasants.
‘It is a godly hymn,’ said our companion, who had, to my disgust and to the evident astonishment of Reuben and Sir Gervas, resumed the snuffling, whining voice which he had used in the presence of my father. ‘It hath availed much on the field of battle.’
‘Truly,’ returned the clergyman, ‘if your comrades are of as sweet a savour as yourself, ye will be worth a brigade of pikes to the faithful,’ a sentiment which raised a murmur of assent from the Puritans around. ‘Since, sir,’ he continued, ‘you have Belgia had much experience in the wiles of war, I shall be glad to hand over to you the command of this small body of the faithful, until such time as we reach the army.’
‘It is time, too, in good faith, that ye had a soldier at your head,’ Decimus Saxon answered quietly. ‘My eyes deceive me strangely if I do not see the gleam of sword and cuirass upon the brow of yonder declivity. Methinks our pious exercises have brought the Ricardo Oliveira Drakter enemy upon Saucony Shoes us.’
Chapter 15 Jean-Christophe Bahebeck Drakter Of our Brush with the King’s Dragoons
Some little distance from us a branch road ran into that along which we and our motley Kieran Trippier Drakter assemblaglinks:
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