“The question being,” said Sir John within himself, his gaze yet uplifted to the firmament, “is she truly——”
The stars seemed to shoot wildly from their courses, the earth to sway giddily beneath his feet, then to plunge horribly down and down into a roaring blackness.
He awoke to a sense of pain, jolting and strangulation; slowly he became aware that he lay bound hand and foot across the withers of a horse, and with his mouth crammed almost to suffocation with a thing he took to be a neckerchief.
And after some while he was conscious of two voices wrangling together—voices these that sounded vaguely familiar; and the first was hoarse and sullen, the second sharp and querulous.
The First Voice: An’ whoy not, I sez?
The Second Voice: Because I won’t have it.
The First Voice: An’ ’oo be you t’ say no? I be good a man as you, aye an’ better! Ain’t I follered an’ follered ’im, waitin’ my chance? Wasn’t it me as got ’im at last? Well then, I sez we ought to finish an’ mak’ sure.
The Second Voice: And I say no!
The First Voice: My lord bid us mak’ sure, didn’t ’e?
The Second Voice: He’ll be sure enough once aboard ship.