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Unformatted text preview: This was one of the clan, though too young to have been there, then. "Ashlar!" he said in a whisper. "Ashlar, we have come for you. We need you. Our father is the Laird now, and would have you come home." And then he dropped to his knees and he kissed my hand. "Don't do this," I said gently. "I am only an instrument of the Lord. Please embrace me, man to man, if you will and tell me what you want." "I am your brother," he said, obeying me and caressing me. "Ashlar, our Cathedral still stands. Our valley still exists by the grace of God. But it may not for long. The heretics have threatened to come down upon us before Christmas; they would destroy our rites; they call us pagans and witches and liars, and it is they who lie. You must help us fight for the true faith. England and Scotland are soaked in blood." For a very long moment I looked at him. I looked at the eager excited expression of the Guardian, our Father Superior. I looked at the attendant, who seemed himself carried away by all this as if I were a saint. Of course the heretics did these thin...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10