"Monsieur, monsieur," blubbered the terrified man, "I would make a confession. I will make a statement before the judge——"
Jack o' Judgment smiled.
"You shall make a statement before your judge, for I am he," he said, "and I think this is the place."
He glanced up at the high roof of the kitchen, for there was a stout hook, where in old times heavy sides of bacon hung. He drew the table under the place and put a chair on top. Then he mounted, and with a skillful cast of his rope caught the hook and drew the rope slowly through. He did not move the table or take any notice of the man on the floor, but stood as a workman might stand who was calculating distances, and all the time he whistled softly.
"Monsieur, monsieur, for God's sake spare me! I will make reparation!"
"You speak truly," said the other without taking his eyes from the rope, "for it is reparation you make this night for two dead men, and God knows how many besides."
"Two?"
The murderer twisted his head.
"For a man called Gregory particularly," said Jack o' Judgment, "shot down like a mad dog."