“I can, and will. Why can I not? Who is to prevent me?”
“Every man you saw there to-night—every man of the thousand who was not there. Frank boy, ours is a great and just cause, and the sentence on the man who has joined us and then turns traitor—”
“I have not joined.”
“You have, and I am your voucher. You are one of us now.”
“And if I go back, what then?” cried Frank contemptuously.
“The sentence is death.”
“Bah! nonsense! But let me tell you this, that the sentence really is death for him who, being the King’s servant, turns traitor. Who stands worse to-night, you or I?—Oh!” ejaculated the boy quickly, and with a sharp ring of horror in his tones; “look there!”
The moon was shining brightly now, full upon the grim-looking old city gateway, and Frank Gowan stood where he had stopped short, as if paralysed by the sight before him.
“Yes, I know,” said Andrew coolly, as he looked up; “I have seen them before. Traitors’ heads.”