Aldarin looked above. The massive brow, the stone eye-balls, the sneering lip, of that dread dark face of stone, were all turned to glaring red by the strong light of many torches. Each sinew of the muscular arms; the clenched hands; the bold prominence of the gigantic chest; the strong outline of the towering figure, were all shown in bold and sublime relief.
Aldarin raised his hands on high.
“Dark form—Demon of our race—Before thee I swear—I am guiltless.”
“Murderer!” a hollow voice exclaimed. The sound rung thro’ the arches of the cavern like the voice of the dead.
“Ha!” shouted the men-at-arms, “behold—behold the Demon speaks; the lips of stone move; the eyes fire—behold!”
The voice again rung thro’ the cavern—“Murderer!”
Aldarin started. The sneer upon his lip had fled. In a moment he lay prostrate upon the platform of stone, and a score of swords flashed over him.
“I confess—I confess!” shouted he, in hurried tones; “I ask but one moment to prepare me for death. Grant me this boon, and ye are Christians.”
“Dog!” shouted one of the pall-bearers, “thy victim died without shrift—”
“So shalt thou die!” cried another.