Ralph’s answer was a fierce and scornful look, which told of what he would do if his hands were free. Then for a few moments he struggled, and Mark laughed.
“No good,” he said; “our men can tie knots fast enough to hold a Darley.”
The men, who stood at a little distance, laughed together in their satisfaction as they eagerly waited to see what was to come. Mark did not keep them long in suspense, for his hand went to the hilt of his sword, which he half drew.
“Now,” he said, “beg for your life, Darley.”
“Coward!” cried Ralph, in a hoarse whisper.
“Very well,” said Mark. “I gave you the chance. You were caught by our men stealing on our land, and you ought to have begged. The Darleys always were beggars and thieves; but you will not. I gave you the opportunity.”
He thrust the sword back in its sheath, and let his right hand fall to his side, where a strong knife-like dagger hung by a short chain from his belt, and whipped it out of its case.
“Does for a hunting-knife,” he said, with a curious laugh. “My father has killed many a stag with it. Now, are you going to beg for your life?”
There was no reply, and the men took a step or two forward.
“Go back!” cried Mark fiercely; and the men obeyed.