s might give him a chance, but he had no skill to
play for it. The imposition of an oath he might not resent with his old
high claim: a promise had been broken, though they knew not, and his head
sank for shame. That, with his brief pause, sealed conviction.

One muttered, 'Now I would not believe him though he swore'; but the
other three frowned silence upon him, the spokesman saying, 'We do
require an oath before we ask further.'

No protest did he offer to hinder a quick despatch. He uttered the form
prescribed, though conscience and pride alike took deep wounds of it.
Afterwards it was told against him how his countenance worked, as for the
first time an oath had been forced upon him.

'Now be speedy,' said Christian, 'for I have little leisure or list to
bide.'

At that crass speech something of grim smiling hardly kept to
concealment.

'Is Philip alive?'

'Yes,' he said, 'if he be not dead,' an answer that angered them. 'God
knows'; then he said, 'I have no cause to think him dead.'

'You saw him last alive and like to live?'

'More like to live than I.'

'Where, then, did you leave him?'

'I may not say. I am pledged to silence.'

'How pledged? To whom?'

'To Philip.'

'Ay, we know; but we all are of the League.'

'None were excepted; "not to a soul," he said.'

'He, speaking for the League, meant to not a soul beside.'

'I mean to the League no less. So I think did he.'

A poor satisfaction was in standing to his word against those who
compelled him to an oath.

'Crack-brained devil----'

'Lower!' Christian said, glancing anxiously up at the window.

'This is no case for foolery or brag. Out of you we must have the whole
truth, lief or loath.'

His stubborn face said no. To no man on earth could he tell the whole
truth, nor, were that possible, would it be believed; less than the
whole doomsday truth could scarce make his own outrageous act
comprehensible.

'Philip may tell you, but not I,' he said witlessly. And as he spoke and
looked at these four, it came upon him that he might not long outlive
Philip's telling of the tale, if only by reason of that lurking thing
uncertainly seen. He clapped his hand upon the hidden cross, as a
perilous flash told how less cause had set down a record that might not
bear the light. So close was he ever to the mouth of hell.

Live temper faded from his face, and it settled to the old blank mildness
that had been lifting somewhat of late days.

'