And Eustace knelt down on the other side of the sufferer, and interpreted his thieves’ dialect into Latin; and the dying man held a hand of each, and turned first to one and then to the other stupid eyes,—­not without affection, though, and gratitude.

“I can’t stand this mummery any longer,” said Yeo.  “Here’s a soul perishing before my eyes, and it’s on my conscience to speak a word in season.”

“Silence!” whispered Amyas, holding him back by the arm; “he knows them, and he don’t know you; they are the first who ever spoke to him as if he had a soul to be saved, and first come, first served; you can do no good.  See, the man’s face is brightening already.”

“But, sir, ’tis a false peace.”

“At all events he is confessing his sins, Yeo; and if that’s not good for him, and you, and me, what is?”

“Yea, Amen! sir; but this is not to the right person.”

“How do you know his words will not go to the right person, after all, though he may not send them there?  By heaven! the man is dead!”

It was so.  The dark catalogue of brutal deeds had been gasped out; but ere the words of absolution could follow, the head had fallen back, and all was over.

“Confession in extremis is sufficient,” said Parsons to Eustace ("Ballard,” as Parsons called him, to Amyas’s surprise), as he rose.  “As for the rest, the intention will be accepted instead of the act.”

“The Lord have mercy on his soul!” said Eustace.

“His soul is lost before our very eyes,” said Yeo.

“Mind your own business,” said Amyas.

“Humph; but I’ll tell you, sir, what our business is, if you’ll step aside with me.  I find that poor fellow that lies dead is none other than the leader of the Gubbings; the king of them, as they dare to call him.”

“Well, what of that?”

“Mark my words, sir, if we have not a hundred stout rogues upon us before two hours are out; forgive us they never will; and if we get off with our lives, which I don’t much expect, we shall leave our horses behind; for we can hold the house, sir, well enough till morning, but the courtyard we can’t, that’s certain!”

“We had better march at once, then.”

“Think, sir; if they catch us up—­as they are sure to do, knowing the country better than we—­how will our shot stand their arrows?”

“True, old wisdom; we must keep the road; and we must keep together; and so be a mark for them, while they will be behind every rock and bank; and two or three flights of arrows will do our business for us.  Humph! stay, I have a plan.”  And stepping forward he spoke—­

“Eustace, you will be so kind as to go back to your lambs; and tell them, that if they meddle with us cruel wolves again to-night, we are ready and willing to fight to the death, and have plenty of shot and powder at their service.  Father Parsons, you will be so kind as to accompany us; it is but fitting that the shepherd should be hostage for his sheep.”