"Yea, he is dead," answered the lad, solemnly.
For an instant Annys swayed. He placed one hand on his heart, and closed his eyes. The other looked at him anxiously.
"Tell me all!" ordered Annys, hoarsely.
"It was terrible, yet it was fine too. He exposed himself recklessly, and was caught, and they offered his freedom, if he would but persuade his followers to give back the charters to the monks, and disperse in orderly fashion to their homes."
"Ah! and he?"
"They led him, the next day, bound securely, to the market place, where he addressed the men. Some of them looked up at him sullenly, and they murmured threateningly, for they had been told that he had purchased his life with their defeat.
"But he fooled them all, for he stood there looking proudly down upon them, with the sky no bluer than his eyes, and his fair hair curled as a little child's low over his brow and neck. Ah, I tell you an Ave rose to my lips—for I never once doubted him—as I saw him standing there, so brave, so glorious—"
"Ah, I wist well how glorious!" groaned Annys, brokenly.
"And no sooner was there silence than he cried out clearly so that all could hear:—