"The pathless morass concealed us."
"And how hast thou lived? I need not ask, on my red deer doubtless."
"No proof has been found against us," said the old man, speaking with that meek firmness which seemed to impress his questioner.
"And now, what hast thou done with the haunch of this deer?"
"I have not slain one."
"But the boy may have done so—come, old man, thou lookest like one who would not lie even to save his neck; now if thou wilt assure me, on the faith of a Christian, and swear by the black cross of Abingdon that thou knowest nought of the deer, I will believe thee."
A pause—but Brian foresaw the result of his appeal.
"I cannot," said the captive at length; "I did not slay it, yet if, according to your cruel laws, a man must die for a deer: I refuse not to die—I am weary of the world."
"Nay, the father shall not bear the iniquity of the son; that were contrary to Scripture and to all sound law."