d, being dead,
do hang i' the air to rot and rot--and thereby hangs a tale of wolves
that howl and birds that shriek, aha!--carrion crows and hook-billed
kites--they be well gorged since Ivo came. 'Caw!' they cry, 'caw!'--
soft child's flesh and the flesh of tender maids--aha!--I know--I've
watched--I've seen! Ah! since my lord Duke Beltane died, what sights
these eyes have seen!"

"Old man," quoth Beltane, bending near, "who art thou?"

"I am the ghost that haunts this place, but, ages since, I was Sir
Robert Bellesme of Garthlaxton Keep. But my wife they slew, my daughter
ravished from me--and my son--Ah! Christ--my son! They hanged him here
--yonder he hung, and I, his father, watched him die. But, by night,
when all was still, I crept hither and found a hole to shelter me. And
here I stayed to watch over him--my son who hung so quiet and so still.
And the rough wind buffeted him, the cruel rain lashed him, and the hot
sun scorched him, but still he hung there, so high!--so high! Yet I
waited, for the strongest rope will break in time. And upon a moony
night, he fell, and I gathered him in my arms, close here against my
heart, and buried him--where none can know--save God. Many others have
I buried also, for the strongest cords must break in time! And folk do
say the devil bears them hence, since none are ever found--but I know
where they lie--six hundred and seventy and nine--I know--these hands
have buried them and I have kept a tally. Ah!--but you, gentle youth,
what would ye here?"

"Burn down the gallows," said Beltane, "'tis an accursed thing, so
shall it shame earth and heaven no longer."

"How!--how!" cried the ancient man, letting fall his rusty sword,
"Destroy Black Ivo's gibbet? Dare ye--dare ye such a thing indeed? Are
there men with souls unconquered yet? Methought all such were old, or
dead, or fled away--dare ye this, youth?"

"Aye," nodded Beltane. "Watch now!" and hereupon he, together with the
others, fell to hewing down the dry brush with might and main, and
piling it about the gibbet's massy beams, while the ancient man,
perched upon a rock hard by, watched them 'neath his shaggy brows and
laughed soft and shrill.

"Aha!" he cried, "the fire ye kindle here shall set the Duchy in a
flame mayhap, to burn Black Ivo with Gui of Allerdale and Red
Pertolepe--mayhap! For them, fire on earth and flame in hell--aha! To
burn the gibbet! 'tis well bethought: so shall carrion kite and jay go
light-bel