s protruded like a lobster's and there was a horrible grin upon his
mouth; still his heels beat the bed, and still he struggled. With his
fingers he plucked madly at the throttling hands on his neck, and
tore at them with his nails until the blood streamed from them. Still
Galliard held him firmly, and with a smile--a diabolical smile it seemed
to the poor, half-strangled wretch--he gazed upon his choking victim.

"Someone comes!" gasped Kenneth suddenly. "Someone comes, Sir Crispin!"
he repeated, shaking his hands in a frenzy.

Galliard listened. Steps were approaching. The soldier heard them also,
and renewed his efforts. Then Crispin spoke.

"Why stand you there like a fool?" he growled. "Quench the light--stay,
we may want it! Cast your cloak over it! Quick, man, quick!"

The steps came nearer. The lad had obeyed him, and they were in
darkness.

"Stand by the door," whispered Crispin. "Fall upon him as he enters,
and see that no cry escapes him. Take him by the throat, and as you love
your life, do not let him get away."

The footsteps halted. Kenneth crawled softly to his post. The soldier's
struggles grew of a sudden still, and Crispin released his throat at
last. Then calmly drawing the fellow's dagger, he felt for the straps
of his cuirass, and these he proceeded to cut. As he did so the door was
opened.

By the light of the lamp burning in the passage they beheld silhouetted
upon the threshold a black figure crowned by a steeple hat. Then the
droning voice of the Puritan minister greeted them.

"Your hour is at hand!" he announced.

"Is it time?" asked Galliard from the bed. And as he put the question he
softly thrust aside the trooper's breastplate, and set his hand to the
fellow's heart. It still beat faintly.

"In another hour they will come for you," answered the minister. And
Crispin marvelled anxiously what Kenneth was about. "Repent then,
miserable sinners, whilst yet--"

He broke off abruptly, awaking out of his religious zeal to a sense
of strangeness at the darkness and the absence of the sentry, which
hitherto he had not remarked.

"What hath--" he began. Then Galliard heard a gasp, followed by the
noise of a fall, and two struggling men came rolling across the chamber
floor.

"Bravely done, boy!" he cried, almost mirthfully. "Cling to him,
Kenneth; cling to him a second yet!"

He leapt from the bed, and guided by the faint light coming through the
door, he sprang across the interve