ried Sir Pertolepe, writhing in his
bonds.

Quoth Beltane:

"Come Roger--Walkyn--bring me him to the tree, yonder."

"Ha! rogue--rogue," panted Sir Pertolepe, "would'st leave me to die in
a noose, unshriven and unannealed, my soul dragged hell-wards weighted
with my sins?"

Now, even as he spake, swift and sudden he leapt aside and would have
fled; but Walkyn's fierce fingers dragged at his throat, and Roger's
iron arms were close about him. Desperately he fought and struggled,
but mighty though he was, his captors were mighty also, moreover his
bonds galled him; wherefore, fighting yet, they dragged him to the
tree, and to the tree Beltane fast bound him, whiles the forest rang
and echoed with his panting cries until his great voice cracked and
broke, and he hung 'gainst the tree, spent and breathless.

Then spake Beltane, grim-lipped yet soft of voice:

"Lord Pertolepe, fain would I hang thee as thou hast hanged many a man
ere now--but this, methinks, is a better way: for here, unless some
wanderer chance to find thee, must thou perish, an so God will it. Thus
do we leave thee in the hands of God to grant thee life or death: and
may he have mercy on thy guilty soul!"

Thus said Beltane, sombre of brow and pale of cheek; and so, beckoning
to the others, turned away, despite Sir Pertolepe's passionate threats
and prayers, and plunging into the dense underbrush, strode swift-footed
from the place, with the captive's wild cries ringing in his ears.

Haphazard went Beltane, yet straining his ears to catch those mournful
sounds that grew faint and fainter with distance till they were lost in
the rustle of the leaves. But, of a sudden, he stayed his going and
stood with his head aslant hearkening to a sound that seemed to have
reached him from the solitudes behind; and presently it came again, a
cry from afar--a scream of agony, hoarse and long drawn out, a hateful
sound that checked the breath of him and brought the sweat out cold
upon his brow; and now, turning about, he saw that his following was
but two, for Walkyn had vanished quite. Now Giles, meeting Beltane's
wide stare, must needs cough and fumble with his bow, whiles Roger
stood with bowed head and fingers tight-clenched upon his quarter-staff:
whereat, fierce-frowning, Beltane spake.

"Wait!" he commanded, "wait you here!" and forthwith turned and ran,
and so running, came again at last to that obscure glade whence now
came a sound of groans, mocked, th