“Take it away, Hank!” he screamed. “Take it away!”
Hank spoke a few words into the ear of the priest, who muttered a prayer and went out. For some time the little man stared appealingly into the eyes of the bigger man. When he spoke his voice was husky and low: “Won’t you look after the woman a little, Hank? If it’s got blue eyes——”
There was now a sound of other footsteps approaching. The little man gasped like one who has suddenly been thrust into cold water.
“Oh, Hank!” he moaned; “hold me tight. Don’t let ’em take me! They’ll stand me in the cart under a tree and they’ll put the rope around my neck and they’ll drag the cart away! Oh!”
The footsteps were now very near the door. The little man on a sudden became very quiet. He bit nervously at his finger-tips. His body stiffened. His face seemed transparent.
When the sound of a hand at the latch was heard, his jaw dropped nervelessly. He stared upon the soon-to-be-opened door with wide, dilated eyes, in which all that had been human was burned to dust.
XII
THE MARK OF SHAME