"Woe--sorrow and woe to one and all, ye men of blood, plague and pest, pain
o' flesh, and grief of soul seize ye, be accursed and so--begone! Hence
ho--away!
"Rommani hi! Avaunt, I say,
Prendraxon!
Thus direst curse on ye I lay
Shall make flesh shrink and bone decay,
To rot and rot by night and day
Till flesh and bone do fall away,
Mud unto mud and clay to clay.
A spell I cast,
Shall all men blast.
Hark ye,
Mark ye,
Rommani hi--prendraxon!"
Down fell pike and guisarme from nerveless fingers and, gasping with fear,
Black Lewin and his fellows turned and fled nor stayed for one look
behind; only Robin stood there (since he might not run away by reason of
his bonds) babbling prayers between chattering teeth and with all his
fingers crossed.
"Oho, Fool, aha!" cried the voice. "Thus have I, a poor, feeble old woman,
wrought better than all thy valiance or Lobkyn's strength. So, by potency
of my spells and magic are we quits, thou and I. Bring, then, thy rogue
outlaw and haste ye!"
So saying the old Witch muffled her awful, fiery face in ragged mantle and
turned away; and in that moment Robin was aware of three forms about him in
the grey dawn-light, felt his bonds loosed off by quick, strong hands and
drew a great, joyous breath.
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