FORE:That evening, Wat Turner, who had been liberated from the keep, after a short confinement, was leaning on his folded arms, which rested for support on the sill of the aperture in his shed, that served the purpose of a window. The forge-fire had died away; the servitor and the journeyman had been dismissed; but Wat still lingered, as if he could there indulge his reflections more freely than in his own house. His eyes were bent on the ground, and so far was he lost in some waking dream, that, until his name was repeated in rather a loud tone, he was not conscious of any one's approach.Reuben did not in the least mind being floggedit was all in the day's workand showed scant sympathy for those fellow-criminals who cried for their mothers. Most of the cramp and stiffness had worn off, and his only anxiety was to have the thing over quickly, so that he could be home in time for supper.
Saturday, 23/08/2014
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FORE:"My liege," said Newton, as the horseman neared the royal train, "that man is Wat Tyler."
Saturday, 23/08/2014
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