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city. Trees gigantic and aged grew near; before the gate I discerned a
crowd of moving human figures--with intense curiosity I lifted my glass
to my eye. I saw Lord Raymond on his charger; a small company of officers
had gathered about him; and behind was a promiscuous concourse of soldiers
and subalterns, their discipline lost, their arms thrown aside; no music
sounded, no banners streamed. The only flag among them was one which
Raymond carried; he pointed with it to the gate of the city. The circle
round him fell back. With angry gestures he leapt from his horse, and
seizing a hatchet that hung from his saddle-bow, went with the apparent
intention of battering down the opposing gate. A few men came to aid him;
their numbers increased; under their united blows the obstacle was
vanquished, gate, portcullis, and fence were demolished; and the wide
sun-lit way, leading to the heart of the city, now lay open before them.
The men shrank back; they seemed afraid of what they had already done, and
stood as if they expected some Mighty Phantom to stalk in offended majesty
from the opening. Raymond sprung lightly on his horse, grasped the
standard, and with words which I could not hear (but his gestures, being
their fit accompaniment, were marked by passionate energy,) he seemed to
adjure their assistance and companionship; even as he spoke, the crowd
receded from him. Indignation now transported him; his words I guessed were
fraught with disdain--then turning from his coward followers, he
addressed himself to enter the city alone. His very horse seemed to back
from the fatal entrance; his dog, his faithful dog, lay moaning and
supplicating in his path--in a moment more, he had plunged the rowels
into the sides of the stung animal, who bounded forward, and he, the
gateway passed, was galloping up the broad and desart street.
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