"There is one thing I do ask," she repeated. "Do not cast him down—let him down gently."
A harsh laugh from Le Gros Guillem.
"You are a silly child, a fool, who know not what you ask. You will prolong his torture, not shorten it—but you shall have your wish. Be it so."
He waved to the jailers.
"Go, child, go!" said he to his daughter.
"I will stay and see it done," she said. "I will not ask another thing."
She stood erect and looked at the old man; her mouth quivered, and her eyes were as though fixed hard in their sockets like stones in a setting.
And the sight was one to freeze the blood.
The jailers raised Ogier, who offered no resistance, but fixed his eyes strainingly on a spot of light above a man's head in the doorway.
He was lifted till his feet were above the well, and then he was let down by ropes passed under his arms, slowly, deliberately.