"The monster's on the wall?"
"Yes. Had you one too? I couldn't look away from it: try as I might, the frightful thing seemed to draw my eyes to it against my will. What unnameable devilry are they playing on us?"
"Making good!" Mackenzie replied with a grim tightening of his mouth. "The Old Man of the Mountain said we were to stay here for the rest of our lives: he means to terrify us into knuckling under. But I vow----"
"For any sake say nothing," Forrester implored earnestly. "I feel as if the very air were spying on us; and who knows, if we say anything against him, he won't burn us to powder as he did that poor trembling wretch!"
"An easy death: better than lifelong slavery. All these folk you see about are slaves."
"But why have they let us come up here?"
"To prove we can't escape, no doubt. But I'll not----"
"Hush! Look at that fellow slinking by!" Forrester cried in an urgent whisper.
It was one of the shaven priests walking towards the orchard.
"Let's follow him," said Mackenzie. "There's no check upon us; we are free men still."