“Here come we to bring ye to the gallows, Robin—how say ye?”
“The more reason for singing since my singing must soon be done!” So, with pikemen before him and behind, bold Robin marched forth to die, yet sang full blithely as he went:
“So lay my bones 'neath good yew-tree,
Thus Rob and yew soon one shall be,
Where all true men may find o' we
A trusty bow!”
“Ha' done!” growled Black Lewin, shivering in the chilly air of dawn. “Quit—quit thy singing, rogue, or by the foul fiend I—”
“Who dareth name the fiend?” croaked an awful voice, whereat Black Lewin halted, gaped and stood a-tremble, while beneath steel cap and bascinet all men's hair stirred and rose with horror; for before them was a ghastly shape, a shape that crouched in the gloom with dreadful face aflame with smouldering green fire.
“Woe!” cried the voice. “Woe unto thee, Lewin the Black, that calleth on fiend o' the pit!”
And now came a fiery hand that, hovering in the air, pointed lambent finger at gaping Lewin and at each of the shivering pike-men in turn.
“Woe—sorrow and woe to one and all, ye men of blood, plague and pest, pain o' flesh, and grief of soul seize ye, be accursed and so—begone! Hence ho—away!
“Rommani hi! Avaunt, I say,
Prendraxon!
Thus direst curse on ye I lay
Shall make flesh shrink and bone decay,
To rot and rot by night and day
Till flesh and bone do fall away,
Mud unto mud and clay to clay.
A spell I cast,
Shall all men blast.
Hark ye,
Mark ye,
Rommani hi—prendraxon!”
Down fell pike and guisarme from nerveless fingers and, gasping with fear, Black Lewin and his fellows turned and fled nor stayed for one look behind; only Robin stood there (since he might not run away by reason of his bonds) babbling prayers between chattering teeth and with all his fingers crossed.