you, as mercifully as possible, by causing you to be shot--with one
exception, that exception being in the case of the Grand Inquisitor,
whom I purpose to hang, as an example to others. And I have taken upon
myself the terrible task and responsibility of execution, for the simple
reason that there is no other who will do so; and justice _must_ be
satisfied. And now, having said all that there is to be said, I leave
you all to prepare for death as best you may." Whereupon, the young
man, with stern, set face, turned away and walked over to Basset, who
was still doing what he could to alleviate the sufferings of the latest
victim to the Inquisition's merciless methods of conversion.

"Well, Basset," he said, indicating the unfortunate individual in the
chair, "whom have we here? He looks to me something like an
Englishman."

"So he be," answered Basset. "He says his name be Job Winter, and that
he was one of the crew of Admiral Hawkins' ship, the _Minion_. He've
been in this hell upon earth since last August, and all that time they
fiends in human form up there," indicating the occupants of the dais,
"have been trying their hardest to make a good Catholic of him. And
this is how they've been doing it. Look to mun." And very gently and
tenderly the soldier disclosed certain horrible and blood-curdling
injuries very recently inflicted, together with a number of healed and
half-healed scars which bore eloquent testimony to a long period of
dreadful torment. So frightful was the sight that both the beholders
fairly reeled under the horrible qualm of sickness and repulsion induced
by it, and if anything further was needed to confirm the young Captain
in his full determination to make an example of the Inquisitors, he
found it in the revolting spectacle before him.

"My poor dear man," he said, his voice quivering with compassion, "what
you must have suffered! But, cheer up; we are Englishmen and Devon men,
like yourself, and one of our purposes in coming here was to deliver you
out of the hands of these Spanish devils, and we'll do it, too. We've a
good surgeon aboard our ship, and you shall be in his hands this very
day, please God. Are there any more of you in this place?"

"He doesn't know, poor soul," answered Basset, interposing, "but I do;
there be two more Englishmen that we've found in the cells; and they'm
almost so bad as this man. We found 'em safely locked up; but they'm
out now and being taken car