“Fewer words had served,” replied Gerard coldly. “I asked a question, I am answered,” and suddenly doffing his bonnet—
“'Obsecro Deum omnipotentem, ut, qua cruce jam pendent isti quindecim latrones fures et homicidae, in ea homicida fur et latro tu pependeris quam citissime, pro publica salute, in honorem justi Dei cui sit gloria, in aeternum, Amen.'”
“And so good day.”
The greedy outlaw was satisfied last. “That is Latin,” he muttered, “and more than I bargained for.” So indeed it was.
And he returned to his business with a mind at ease. The friends pondered in silence the many events of the last few hours.
At last Gerard said thoughtfully, “That she-bear saved both our lives-by God's will.”
“Like enough,” replied Denys; “and talking of that, it was lucky we did not dawdle over our supper.”
“What mean you?”
“I mean they are not all hanged; I saw a refuse of seven or eight as black as ink around our fire.”
“When? when?”