tore of money set by--"

But Beltane laughed with pallid lips, and, pulling upon the rope,
dragged Black Roger, choking, to his feet.

"Master," he gasped, "show a little mercy--"

"Hast ever shown mercy to any man--speak me true!"

"Alack!--no, master! And yet--"

"How then shall ye expect mercy? Thou hast burnt and hanged and
ravished the defenceless, so now shall be an end of it for thee, yet--O
mark me this, thy name shall live on accursed in memory long after
thou'rt but poor dust."

"Aye, there be many alive to curse Black Roger living, and many dead to
curse me when I'm dead; poor Roger's soul shall find small mercy
hereafter, methinks--ha, I never thought on this!"

"Thou had'st a mother--"

"Aye, but they burned her for a witch when I was but a lad. As for me,
'tis true I've hanged men, yet I was my lord's chief verderer and did
but as my lord commanded."

"A man hath choice of good or evil."

"Aye. So now, an I must die--I must, but O master, say a prayer for me--
my sins lie very heavy--"

But Beltane, trembling, pulled upon the rope and swung Black Roger
writhing in mid-air; then, of a sudden, loosing the rope, the forester
fell and, while he lay gasping, Beltane stooped and loosed the rope
from his neck.

"What now?" groaned the forester, wild-eyed, "Sweet Jesu--ah, torture
me not!"

"Take back thy life," said Beltane, "and I pray God that henceforth
thou shalt make of it better use, and live to aid thy fellows, so shall
they, mayhap, some day come to bless thy memory."

Then Black Roger, coming feebly to his knees, looked about him as one
that wakes upon a new world, and lifted wide eyes from green earth to
cloudless sky.

"To live!" quoth he, "to live!" And so, with sudden gesture, stooped
his head to hide his face 'neath twitching fingers.

Hereupon Beltane smiled, gentle-eyed, yet spake not, and, turning,
caught up his staff and went softly upon his way, leaving Black Roger
the forester yet upon his knees.

CHAPTER X

HOW BELTANE MADE COMRADE ONE BLACK ROGER THAT WAS A HANGMAN

The sun was low what time Beltane came to a shrine that stood beside
the way, where was a grot built by some pious soul for the rest and
refreshment of wearied travellers; and here also was a crystal spring
the which, bubbling up, fell with a musical plash into the basin
hollowed within the rock by those same kindly hands. Here Beltane
stayed and, when he had drunk his fill, laid him down in the gr