Ralph was silent, and Drogo departed with the same ceremonious politeness, laughing at it in his sleeve.

“Now for the burgher,” said he.

A light shone in the dark prison beneath, and the mayor looked into the face of his fierce young captor.

“What brought thee into my woods, fat beast?”

“I knew not they were thine, or I had perchance not intruded.  Now tell me, lord, at what price I may redeem my error, for I have a wife and children, to say nothing of apprentices and workmen, who long sore for me!”

“‘When the cat’s away the mice will play.’

“They will get on merrily without thee.  One question thou must answer before we let thee go:  On what business came ye hither?”

The mayor hesitated.

“S’death, dost keep me waiting?  We have a torture chamber close at hand.  Shall I summon the torturers?  They will fit thy fat thumbs with a handsome screw in a moment.”

Poor mayor!  Martyrdom was not his vocation, and he owned it.

“Nay, it can do no harm.  We came to witness the last confession of a dying woman, who had some crime on her soul, which she wished to depose before fitting witnesses.”

“Of what nature?”

“I was not told.  I waited to learn.”

“Why didst thou hesitate to say this just now?”

Poor mayor!  He stammered out that he hoped he hadn’t offended therein.

“The fact is that you knew the men, your companions, came as my enemies, and suspected that the lies that witch, whom Satan is just now basting, meant to tell, affected me!  Don’t lie, or I will thrust the lie down thy throat, together with a few spare teeth; my gauntlet is heavy.”

“It was so,” said the terrified citizen of Hamelsham.

“Ha! ha!  Well, it matters little to me what thou mayest say, or what thy silly townsfolk think of me:  the gudgeons probably talk much evil of the perch, but I never heard that it hurts him much, or spoils his digestion of those savoury little fish.  But thou must pay for it:  I fix thy ransom at one hundred marks.”

“Good heavens!  I have not as many pence!”

“Swear not, most fat and comely burgher.  The money must be raised, or I will send the good citizens of Hamelsham their mayor bit by bit, an ear to begin with.  A man waits without, give him thy instructions to thy people.  Farewell!”

And the young bully strolled into the next cell, which was Martin’s, a keeper opening the door and shutting it upon him until the signal was given to reopen it; for Drogo did not wish the coming conversation to be overheard.

“So I have got thee at last?”

“Thou hast my body.”

“It is a comfort that it is a body which can be made to pine, to feel, to suffer.”

“I am in God’s hands, not thine.”

“I advise thee not to look for help to so distant a quarter.  Martin!  I have always hated thee, both at Kenilworth and Walderne.  Revenge is a morsel fit for the gods.”