, half-stunned, his arms
twisted and bound by galling thongs. Now, as he lay thus, helpless, a
mailed foot spurned him fiercely and looking up, half-swooning, he
beheld Sir Pertolepe smiling down at him.

"Ha--thou fool!" he laughed jovially, "did'st think to escape me, then
--thou fool, I have followed on thy tracks all day. By the eyes of God,
I would have followed thee to hell! I want thee in Garthlaxton--there
be gibbets for thee above the keep--also, there are my hounds--aye, I
want thee, Messire Beltane who art Duke of Pentavalon! Ho! Arnulf--a
halter for his ducal throat!" So, when they had cast a noose about his
neck, they dragged Beltane, choking, to his feet, and led him away
gasping and staggering through the green; and having eyes, he saw not,
and having ears, he heard not, being very spent and sick.

Now, as they went, evening began to fall.

CHAPTER XVII

OF THE AMBUSHMENT NEAR THORNABY MILL

Little by little, as he stumbled along, Beltane's brain began to clear;
he became aware of the ring and clash of arms about him, and the
trampling of horses. Gradually, the mist lifting, he saw long files of
men-at-arms riding along very orderly, with archers and pike-men.
Little by little, amid all these hostile forms, he seemed to recognise
a certain pair of legs that went on just before: sturdy legs, that yet
faltered now and then in their stride, and, looking higher, he saw a
broad belt whose edges were notched and saw-like, and a wide, mail-clad
back that yet bent weakly forward with every shambling step. Once this
figure sank to its knees, but stumbled up again 'neath the vicious
prick of a pike-head that left blood upon the bronzed skin, whereat
Beltane uttered a hoarse cry.

"O Black Roger!" he groaned, "I grieve to have brought thee to this!"

"Nay, lord," quoth Roger, lifting high his drooping head, "'tis but my
wound that bleeds afresh. But, bond or free, thy man am I, and able yet
to strike a blow on thy behalf an heaven so please."

"Now God shield thee, brave Roger!" sighed Beltane.

"O sweet St. Giles--and what of me, brother?" spake a voice in his
ear, and turning, Beltane beheld the archer smiling upon him with
swollen, bloody lips.

"Thou here too, good Giles?"

"Even so, tall brother, in adversity lo! I am with thee--since I
found no chance to run other-where, for that divers rogues constrained
me to abide--notably yon knave with the scar, whose mailed fist I had
perforce to kiss