“Thanks, my brave young castellan,” he said, mockingly. “We will take off your steel toys and gewgaws by-and-by. One word, though,” he said, in a fierce whisper: “make the slightest sound, and you will be thrown into the moat. Be silent, and we will recollect that you are only a boy, and treat you as one.”
For answer, Roy threw all his strength into one desperate effort, wrenched his head round so that it was clear of the hand pressed upon it, and shrieked out the one word—
“Judas!”
The word seemed to cut into the wretched traitor’s brain; and, raising the boy’s sword, he struck at him; but the blade glanced from the perfectly tempered helmet, and the next moment one who seemed to be an officer interposed.
“Prisoners are not treated like that, sir,” he said, sternly. “Which way now?”
“This,” said the secretary; and he led the way along the corridor, towards the door opening upon the court-yard.