"Harsh words, my lady! Couldst not choose some gentler name?"
"Nay, if I called thee aught else, 'twould be murderer."
Ingle turned pale.
"By what token?"
"By that Iscariot badge on thine arm."
The man looked down in bewilderment.
"Ay, that point convicts thee. 'Tis as though the finger of the Lord were laid upon that emerald tag, and His voice said, 'Thou art the man.'"
"Who told thee?"
"No man told me; but murder will out, though the deed be wrought in the blackness of midnight and the body of the victim lie hid in the shadows of the forest."