Sheila Braine

Summary

Sheila Braine The golden story book (1913)

The sun, not a great way as yet above the low peat hills that edged the little valley to eastwards, flung the shadow of the grey peel-tower far along the grass, and Long John o' the Limp shifted his legs to bring them into the sunshine.
"Hey! but I must be growing old, for I get as fond of warmth nowadays as a cat of the fire," grunted the moss-trooper, his keen eye following the course of the stream that gurgled among its rushes as it flowed from the Scottish border, "and yet—if those reiving loons came riding here I doubt not they would find some bite still left in these withered jaws!"
Source: Gutenberg

Sheila Braine The golden story book (1913)

A powerful, bearded man was Wat Armstrong, and his grasp was on the iron bars of the window when a shrill cry made him look upward.
"Help! Long John," screamed Jocelyn, peering over the parapet as the wind suddenly curled the smoke away and revealed the danger, and Black Wat closed his eyes involuntarily as a jagged rock came hurtling through the air.
It struck the second reiver standing on the rungs below him, and with a terrible yell the man fell backwards, dragging the ladder away to fall crashing into the blaze.
Source: Gutenberg

Sheila Braine The golden story book (1913)

From forty throats went up a yell that sent the curlews wheeling over the moss, and the earth trembled with the thunder of iron hoofs, but the ponies were fresh, and pacing like the wind, and already they had good start of their pursuers.
"Beware the heather roots, Ally," cried Jocelyn between his set teeth, "one stumble, and they will burn our Tower; if aught happen me, ride on and warn Long John!"
Source: Gutenberg

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