etrayal from them and he knew
that his own doom was sealed.

He came in, followed by four men. One of them was MacDougall, the king's
whipper. In the corridor were other faces, like ghostly shadows in the
darkness. Only MacDougall's face was uncovered. The others were hidden
behind white masks. The men uttered no sound but ranged themselves like
specters in front of the door, their cocked rifles swung into the crooks
of their arms. There was a triumphant leer on MacDougall's lips as he
and the jailer approached. As the whipper bound Neil's hands behind his
back he hissed in his ear.

"This will be a better job than the whipping, damn you!"

Neil laughed.

"Hear that, Nat?" he asked, loud enough for all in the cell to hear.
"MacDougall says this will be a better job than the whipping. He
remembers how I thrashed him once when he said something to Marion one
day."

Neil was as cool as though acting his part in a play. His face was
flushed, his eyes gleamed fearlessly defiant. And Nathaniel, looking
upon the courage of this man, from under whose feet had been swept all
hope of life, felt a twinge of shame at his own nervousness. MacDougall
grew black with passion at the taunting reminder of his humiliation and
tightened the thongs about Neil's wrists until they cut into the flesh.

"That's enough, you coward!" exclaimed

Nathaniel, as he saw the blood start. "Here--take this!"

Like lightning he struck out and his fist fell with crushing force
against the side of the man's head. MacDougall toppled back with a
hollow groan, blood spurting from his mouth and nose. Nathaniel turned
coolly to the four rifles leveled at his breast.

"A pretty puppet to do the king's commands!" he cried. "If there's a man
among you let him finish the work!"

Jeekum had fallen upon his knees beside the whipper.

"Great God!" he shrieked. "You've killed, him! You've stove in the side
of his head!"

There was a sudden commotion in the corridor. A terrible voice boomed
forth in a roar.

"Let me in!"

Strang stood in the door. He gave a single glance at the man gasping and
bleeding in the mud. Then he looked at Nathaniel. The eyes of the two
men met unflinching. There was no hatred now in the prophet's face.

"Captain Plum, I would give a tenth of my kingdom for a brother like
you!" he said calmly. "Here--I will finish the work." He went boldly to
the task, and as he tied Nathaniel's arms behind him he added, "The
vicissitudes of