Feast Of The Red Gauntlet

The weird circle. In this cave, where the restless sea, we are meant to call from out of the past stories strange and weird. Bellkeeper told the bell so that all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle.

An exhibit, an exhibit creaking in a wind. Not a pretty picture that the swinging branches recall tonight. But I never hear their mournful movement without my thoughts gone backwards, backwards

to the doer years, the terrible times a Sir Robert Redgauntlet. This contrary side will long remember him. For our fathers used to draw breath thick when they heard him mending stains in with his tenet.

And I and every tenet man and Sir Robert Redgauntlets ground had to join the master in his killing raids on the liberal wigs. The dead got hung three neighbor men I knew. My heart was like a stone, but I held no ill will against the men myself, and worse luck would have it.

I was the last man to leave the frightful scene for Dady. My old horse went lame on me. The three dead men hung high over my head. The gibbet, creaking, and swaying as I looked over Dady.

And all of a sudden a stranger rode up through the woods a lean gaunt creature He was and loose ill fit and close and his white mare made no sound as she stepped on dry branches I stood frozen a minute and then somehow I plucked courage to say What are you man or spirit the stranger in these woods rightly sir?

We rode in the road and I drank a deal of brandy for a I didn't like the business about and I paid little attention to our direction. This is the wood of the dead, Stini.