k, the brazier
with its red-hot pincers, the thumbscrew, and, in short,
instruments--happily unknown now--in the greatest variety; all
intended to wring the truth from crime, or worse, the self-condemning
falsehood from the lips of helpless innocence {xiv}.

"Wilt thou answer?"

"I will not betray the innocent."

"Seize him, tormentors."

'Twas said and done, and after a short and furious struggle, the
victim was laid on the rack.

"Turn."

The tormentors, clad in leathern jerkins, hideous with masks to
hide their brutal faces, turned the handles which worked pulleys
and drew the victim's limbs out of joint.

"Hold--enough--I will confess."

"Release him."

"What dost thou ask me?"

"How many are there in the Dismal Swamp?"

"Maybe a hundred."

"Thou art trifling with me; I see we must put thee on the rack
again."

"Nay, thou wouldst force me to deceive thee; there cannot be many
more."

"Who is their leader?"

"Haga, son of Ernulph."

"Thy father?"

The victim seemed resolved to say no more.

"Place him on the rack again."

But the fortitude of the captive did not seem equal to the last
supreme trial.

"Hold!" he cried, "I will confess all."

He owned that his father Haga was the leader of the outlaws, and
being interrogated eagerly by the baron about Etienne, stated that
the latter was detained as a prisoner in the Swamp, in case they
should need a hostage.

"God be thanked!" said Hugo.

He could yet take that holy name on his murderous lips, and sooth
to say he did feel gratitude.

The next step was to persuade Ordgar to guide the Normans through
the Dismal Swamp to the English settlement. A fresh application of
the torture seemed needed to secure this desirable end, but the
victim yielded when the pain was about to be renewed--yielded to
the weakness of his own flesh, combined with a promise from the
baron that his father should not only be spared, but restored to
the little farm he had, formerly occupied at Aescendune, under the
last English thane.

In short, the bargain was concluded, and Ordgar, son of Haga,
became the promised guide of the foes of his country.

CHAPTER XV. RESTORED TO LIFE.

Day after day Etienne de Malville tossed upon the couch in the hut
of the woman whom he had so cruelly bereaved, struggling against
the throes of fever. In his ravings he was prone to dwell upon all
the scenes of horror he had recently passed through, and yet some
Providence,