Summary

Portrait of Arthur Quiller-Couch Arthur Quiller-Couch The Laird's Luck and Other Fireside Tales

For three weeks those bloody-minded dogs have been grinning and running about the city: and here under their feet, as in a mine, have lain the two most precious jewels of all—a clear conscience and a liquor which, upon my faith, holy father, cannot be believed in under a second glass."
Brother Bartolomé was refilling the glass, when the Carmelite touched his arm.
"You have been here—all the while?"
"Has it been so long? I have been at work, you see."
"For the good of man," interrupted Felipe. "Time slips away when one works for the good of man."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Arthur Quiller-Couch Arthur Quiller-Couch The Laird's Luck and Other Fireside Tales

It was the women's turn to lay their grief at the King's door. They crossed the sands by ones and twos—-widows, childless mothers, maids betrothed and bereaved—and spread their dark skirts and sat before the gateway. Niotte brought them food with her own hands; they took it without thanks. All the day they sat silent, and Graul felt their silence to be heavier than curses—nay, that their eyes did indeed curse as they sat around and watched the lighting of the lantern, and Niotte, nodding innocently at her arched hands, told them, "See, I pray; cannot you pray too?"
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Arthur Quiller-Couch Arthur Quiller-Couch The Laird's Luck and Other Fireside Tales

As the head of the leading column swung into sight around the base of the foot-hills, he sought in his haversack and drew out a small volume—the Pilgrim's Progress—and having dog's-eared a page of it inscribed my name on the fly-leaf, "from his kinsman, Alan McNeill."
"It is a question," said he, as I thanked him, "and one often debated, if it be not better that a whole army, such as we see approaching, should perish bodily in every circumstance of horror than that one soul, such as yours or mine, should fail to find the true light.
Source: Gutenberg

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