human
Fear not, masters, called young Richard, as boy and dog passed, running as freshly as at the start.
gpt
Do but show my father which way I have gone. Blood shall hunt the Frenchman down, and I shall slay him. I shall slay him, friends.
human
I shall slay the Frenchman. I shall slay him, friends.
gpt
It is God's way, neighbour,
human
Through the device of the devil, smitten down foully.... A man of few words, a good soul, with a smile for all. I knew him as a boy at home, a gentle boy, who would never join in stoning birds in the hedgerow or in killing butterflies, because, quoth he, God made them to give us song and happiness. And yet none quicker than he at ball or quintain, none braver at quarterstaff. Twice won he the silver arrow in Holborn Fields, and at home would lead his mother to church a' Sundays, and a' week-day drive the horses out to field. A sober lad as ever sang with the lark beside our Thames.... An arrow in the back, an arrow shot by an Indian witch. It passes all. Call you that God's way? God wills a man to die in fair fight, with his death in front. And this! Oh, George! To fall like a beast hunted for the pot.
gpt
Yet 'twas a soldier's end.
human
Tell them not at home, cried Penfold.
gpt
Let them not know, if ever we see Thames-side again, how George Flower fell. Ay, like a flower he came up, and as a grass has he been mown down. Many are the wiles of Satan. The arrow that flieth by night, the coward arrow of treachery. 'Tis a foul wind that blows out a good man's life. He was a good man. His old mother, if yet she live, may look upon his past and smile. Such as George has made our England live. The strong oaks of the land. From treachery and sudden death, good Lord deliver us!
human
Amen, captain!
gpt
Where is friend Hough?
human
I saw him rushing into the forest as a man possessed.
gpt
His zeal consumes him. I fear me while the madness last he will thrust his sword through that witch and so bring us to trouble with the Indians.
human
She will escape from him in the forest.
gpt
Bear with me, said Penfold brokenly.
human
To-night I am old. My leg pains me so that I may hardly rest upon it. What is here? See! Whom have we yonder?
gpt
Hast seen my son?
human
I am but a useless hulk this night, groaned Penfold.
gpt
Do you follow and bring me word, while I stay to keep company with our George.