“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.”