“Come, speak up, laddie,” he said gently. “Play the man. They shan’t hurt you, I swear it. Ther’s all that gold waiting. You’ve seen it on the reef in the cutting, right here in Barnriff. It’s yours when you’ve done this thing, but you won’t be here to get it if you don’t. Will you come?”
“They won’t––won’t hang me?” the boy whispered, in dreadful fear.
The death party were quite near now. Peter heard them. He felt that they were nearly across the market-place. He glanced out of the window. Yes, there they were. Jim was sitting in the buckboard beside Doc Crombie. The rest of the crowd were in the saddle.
“I swear it, laddie,” he cried in a fear.
“An’––an’––you got that gold?” The boy’s face was suddenly contorted with fierce bodily pain.
“Yes, yes, and it’s yours when we come back.”
Another glance showed the hanging party on the outskirts 382 of the village. They were passing slowly. Peter knew they would travel faster when the last house was passed. Eve saw them, too, and her hands writhed in silent agony as they clasped each other in her lap. She turned again to stare helplessly at Elia. She must leave him to Peter. Instinctively she knew that one word from her might spoil all.
“Wher’ are they now?” asked the boy, his ghastly face cold as marble after his seizure of pain.
“They’re gettin’ out of the village. We’ll be too late in a minute.”
Then of a sudden the boy cried out. His voice was shrill with a desperate fear, but there was a note of determination in it.