"You provided it?"
"Aye, under the Captain's daughter. It was we who did it. If that goes to abate our sentence—well."
"Father, spare these two," pleaded Jean.
"As you will, Jean; but there is space for two more crosses. Would—would I could cut an eleventh, and that a big one, for the Gros Guillem."
Then murmurs arose. The peasants, their love of revenge, their lust for slaughter whetted, clamoured for the death of the last two of the band.
But Jean was firm.
"My father surrenders them to me," he said.
"Then let them run on the mal-pas," shouted one of the peasants.
"Good!" said the brigand Roger; "give me a plank and I will run on it, so will Amanieu."
Ogier looked ruefully at the crosses.