life and death.

Under the apple-trees in the orchard Mr. Blood and his companions in
misfortune were made fast each to a trooper's stirrup leather. Then at
the sharp order of the cornet, the little troop started for Bridgewater.
As they set out there was the fullest confirmation of Mr. Blood's
hideous assumption that to the dragoons this was a conquered enemy
country. There were sounds of rending timbers, of furniture smashed and
overthrown, the shouts and laughter of brutal men, to announce that this
hunt for rebels was no more than a pretext for pillage and destruction.
Finally above all other sounds came the piercing screams of a woman in
acutest agony.

Baynes checked in his stride, and swung round writhing, his face ashen.
As a consequence he was jerked from his feet by the rope that attached
him to the stirrup leather, and he was dragged helplessly a yard or two
before the trooper reined in, cursing him foully, and striking him with
the flat of his sword.

It came to Mr. Blood, as he trudged forward under the laden apple-trees
on that fragrant, delicious July morning, that man--as he had long
suspected--was the vilest work of God, and that only a fool would set
himself up as a healer of a species that was best exterminated.

CHAPTER III. THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE

It was not until two months later--on the 19th of September, if you
must have the actual date--that Peter Blood was brought to trial, upon
a charge of high treason. We know that he was not guilty of this; but
we need not doubt that he was quite capable of it by the time he was
indicted. Those two months of inhuman, unspeakable imprisonment had
moved his mind to a cold and deadly hatred of King James and his
representatives. It says something for his fortitude that in all the
circumstances he should still have had a mind at all. Yet, terrible
as was the position of this entirely innocent man, he had cause for
thankfulness on two counts. The first of these was that he should have
been brought to trial at all; the second, that his trial took place
on the date named, and not a day earlier. In the very delay which
exacerbated him lay--although he did not realize it--his only chance of
avoiding the gallows.

Easily, but for the favour of Fortune, he might have been one of those
haled, on the morrow of the battle, more or less haphazard from
the overflowing gaol at Bridgewater to be summarily hanged in the
market-place by the bloodthirsty Colonel Kir