The Tavern Knight

ent he listened to his companion's regular breathing. He had not Galliard's nerves nor Galliard's indifference to death, so

ning swayed him, and his righteousness almost drew from him a contempt of this man's

rispin had related his story, the interest it awakened had served to banish the spectre of fear which the thought of the morrow conju

and, and ever and anon of Cynthia, his beloved. Would she hear of his end? Would she weep for him?-as though it mattered! And every train of thought that he embarked

e to his Creator. He felt himself a craven-doubly so by virtue of the peaceful breathing of tha

t that it was vanity begat the thought, and vanity that might uphold him on

on his face, and holding it stood beside him a tall black figure in a

and blinking like

d burnt sack to be

g his condition and thinking they were come for him, he drew a

'clock?"

deep droning voice. "Hast entered upon thy last day of life-a day

ch a voice that he of the cloak recoiled a step, as if he thought a blow must

r in his droning voice, "to

ered Crispin, with a

in a few hours' time. Bethink the

is your ways to heaven are not my ways. Indeed, if heaven be peopled by such croaking thin

tting his lanthorn upon the table, he raised his ha

lous heart of this obdurate, incorrigible sinner, thi

et, his harsh countenance thrust into the

t be guilty at the end of my life of striking a man in petticoats.

Kenneth, who stood behind in silence. But the lad's Presbyterian rearing had taught him to hate a sectarian as h

d perform an act of charity, leave your la

lity of his tone, he set the lanthorn on the table. Then moving

shall pray for you, and I will return anon, when perchance yo

n wearily, "you wou

threshold he paused again. "I leave you the lanthorn," he said. "May it light yo

was gone, and stretched himse

'tis your tu

could not sleep," he

his shoulders, Crispin sat

ither meat nor drink. Not that I mind the meat so much, but, 'slife, my throat is dry as one of their sermons, and I would cheerfully give four of my five hours of life for a posset of sack. A paltry

upon the bed, and pre

e opened his eyes to find the lad shive

? Oddslife, what a

spin? Is there naught you

y Gallia

e thought of the r

ed his head

er have cold steel, 'tis done. It is the last service I may render you, and I'll be as gentle

t, he thrust his hand down the side of hi

. It is death itself I would cheat. What odds to exchange one form for another? Is th

produced a profound disgust. "Is there no way; say you? There is the window, but 'tis seventy feet

fe offers nothing? For you the prospect of it has no terrors. But for me-bethink you, sir, I am sca

e that it is to me. And yet, and yet," he mused, "do I not die leaving a task unfulfilled-a task of vengeance? And by

n, think," cried t

to the river is seventy feet at least. I measured it with my eyes when first we entered here. We have no rope. Your clo

e lad trembled, noting which

f otherwise, a speedier end than even the rope will afford you. Oddslife," he cried,

light so that its rays fell full upon the ba

al of this single piece of iron," and he touched the lower

anthorn down. In a tremble, Kenneth watch

throw for liberty. If I win, I win all; if I lose, I lose naught. 'Slife, I have thrown many a main with Fate, but never on

o leap?" ga

ver. It is t

not. It is a

ive you in an hour's time, if you

n their sockets, and yet his limbs shook with

ulp. Then suddenly clutching Gallia

now?" quoth C

Sir Crispin

gash in the blackness of the hea

o time to lose. The minister sa

Galliard grimly, as he mo

huge strength-that awful strength acquired during those years of toil as a galley-slave, which even his debaucheries had not undermin

panted at las

efforts, and wi

is done. 'Fore George," he laughed, "it is the first time water

d, came nigh again, and again passed on. As once more they grew faint, Crispin seized the bar and r

by him who toiled, and by him who watched with bated breath

off in its socket. Both men caught their breath, and stood for a secon

ecute the thought. To thrust Kenneth into a corner, to extinguish the

ng aloft a lanthorn whose rays were flashed back by his polished cuirass. He beheld Crispin on the bed with closed eyes and open mouth, and he heard

u aught?"

strangled voice, "I heard so

is thumb towards the window, thereby drawing the soldier's eyes in that direction. The f

he ventured within reach of a man who could so handle iron. But he was a slow-reasoning clod, and so far, thought had not yet ta

hope had failed them. Then, as he looked, it seemed to him that in one great l

e as Galliard's fingers closed about his windpipe. He was a big fellow, and in his mad struggles he carried: Crispin hither and thither about th

r might be heard, and perchance bring others to his aid. To avoid this, Galliard had swung him towards the bed, and hurled him on to it

e commanded, in a whis

his eyes 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, an

ly. "Someone comes, Sir Crispin!" he r

ing. The soldier heard them also, and

ed. "Quench the light-stay, we may want it!

he lad had obeyed him, a

e enters, and see that no cry escapes him. Take him by the

n still, and Crispin released his throat at last. Then calmly drawing the fellow's dagger, he fel

ouetted upon the threshold a black figure crowned by a steeple h

s at hand!"

question he softly thrust aside the trooper's breastplate,

minister. And Crispin marvelled anxiously what Kenneth

l to a sense of strangeness at the darkness and the abs

p, followed by the noise of a fall, and two stru

most mirthfully. "Cling to him, K

ing space and softly closed it. Then he groped his way along the wall to the spot where he had seen the lan

uraging Kenneth, "hold him yet a

pulling aside the cloak, he lifted