upon her oath in the
presence of God, she must utter a dreadful lie, she who as yet had never
lied. For thirty seconds or more she thought, staring round her with
anguished eyes, while the scene they fell on sank into her soul in such
fashion that never till her death's day did she forget its aspect.

The Mare spoke no more, she only knelt searching her face with a stern
and wondering glance. A little to the right stood Black Meg, glaring
at her sullenly, for the blood-money was in danger. Behind the prisoner
were two of the soldiers, one patting his hand to his face to hide
a yawn, while the other beat his breast to warm himself. The third
soldier, who was placed somewhat in front, stirred the surface of the
hole with the shaft of his halbert to break up the thin film of ice
which was forming over it, while Montalvo himself, still leaning
sideways and forwards, watched her eyes with an amused and cynical
expression. And over all, over the desolate snows and gabled roofs of
the town behind; over the smooth blue ice, the martyr and the murderers;
over the gay sledge and the fur-wrapped girl who sat within it, fell the
calm light of the moon through a silence broken only by the beating of
her heart, and now and again by the sigh of a frost-wind breathing among
the rushes.

"Well, Senora," asked Montalvo, "if you have sufficiently reflected
shall I administer the oath in the form provided?"

"Administer it," she said hoarsely.

So, descending from the sledge, he stood in front of Lysbeth, and,
lifting his cap, repeated the oath to her, an oath strong enough to
blast her soul if she swore to it with false intent.

"In the name of God the Son and of His Blessed Mother, you swear?" he
asked.

"I swear," she answered.

"Good, Senora. Now listen to me. Did you meet that woman this
afternoon?"

"Yes, I met her on the ice."

"And did she in your hearing utter curses upon the Government and the
Holy Church, and call upon you to assist in driving the Spaniards from
the land, as this spy, whom I believe is called Black Meg, has borne
witness?"

"No," said Lysbeth.

"I am afraid that is not quite enough, Senora; I may have misquoted the
exact words. Did the woman say anything of the sort?"

For one second Lysbeth hesitated. Then she caught sight of the victim's
watching, speculative eyes, and remembered that this crazed and broken
creature once had been a child whom her father had kissed and played
with, and that the