e,
from the town below rose a murmur that swelled and swelled to a shout,
and so was gone.

"Behold, lord Seneschal, Black Ivo's gallows to-night hath ceased to
be: here is a sign, let those heed it that will. But for thee--this!
To-night have I burned this gallows, to-night have I freed thy
prisoners. Upon me therefore, and only me, be the penalty; for--mark me
this, Seneschal!--spill but one drop of blood of these innocents of
Belsaye, and, as God seeth me, so will I hunt thee down, and take thee
and tear out thine eyes, and cut off thine hands, and drive thee forth
to starve! And this do I swear by the honour of my father, Beltane the
Strong, Duke of Pentavalon!"

But now, even as Sir Gui shrank back before the death in Beltane's
look, amazed beyond all thought by his words, came a sudden shout, and
thereafter a clash and ring of steel upon the stair without. And now,
above the sudden din, hoarse and loud a battle-cry arose, at the sound
of which Sir Gui's jaws hung agape, and he stood as one that doubts his
ears; for 'twas a cry he had heard aforetime, long ago.

"Arise! Arise! I will arise!"

Then Beltane cast up the bar, and, plucking wide the door, beheld the
broad, mail-clad back of one who held the narrow stair where flashed
pike and gisarm.

"Roger!" he called, "Black Roger!"

"Aye, lord, 'tis I," cried Roger, parrying a pike-thrust, "make sure of
thy work, master, I can hold these in check yet a while."

"My work is done, Roger. To me--to me, I say!"

So Roger, leaping back from the stair-head, turned about and ran to
Beltane, stumbling and spattering blood as he came, whereupon Beltane
clapped-to the door and barred it in the face of the pursuit. A while
leaned Roger, panting, against the wall, then, beholding Sir Gui:

"How!" he cried, "lives the pale fox yet? Methought thy work was done,
master!" So saying, he swung aloft his bloody sword, but, even as the
Seneschal waited the blow, smiling of lip, Beltane caught Black Roger's
wrist.

"Stay!" cried he, above the thunder of blows that shook the door,
"would'st slay a man unarmed?"

"Aye, master, as he hath slain many a man ere now!" quoth Roger,
striving to free his arm. "The door is giving, and there be many
without: and, since to-night we must die, so let us slay the white fox
first."

"Not so," said Beltane, "get you through the window--the river runs
below: through the window--out, I say!" and, with the word, he stooped
and bore Black R