Over the great plain at a breakneck speed, and down toward the little settlement of Clontarf’s Post, rode a youthful horseman whose fair young face was aglow with health, and whose dark, bright eyes roamed restlessly over the green expanse before him. From beneath a small plumed cap of scarlet velvet, masses of dark-brown hair floated on the wind. He was a mere youth in appearance--of seventeen perhaps, and though he was light of form and lithe of limb, his physical and muscular development was that of perfect manhood.…
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