How They Break Ope The Dungeon of Belsaye

Being yet in the shade of the woods, Beltane paused, hearkening to the distant uproar of Belsaye town and watching the torches that hovered upon its walls and the cressets that glowed on tower and bartizan.

"Messire Beltane," quoth the friar, setting his rumpled frock in order, "are ye minded still to adventure breaking ope the dungeon of Belsaye?"

"Aye, verily!" nodded Beltane. "Know you the city, good friar?"

"That do I, my brother: every lane and street, every hole and corner of it--'twas there I first drew breath. A fair, rich city, freed by charter long ago--but now, alas, its freedom snatched away, its ancient charter gone, it bleeds 'neath a pale-cheeked tyrant's sway--a pallid man who laughs soft-voiced to see men die, and smiles upon their anguish. O Belsaye, grievous are thy wrongs since Ivo came five years agone and gave thee up to pillage and to ravishment. O hateful day! O day of shame! What sights I saw--what sounds I heard--man-groans and screams of women to rend high heaven and shake the throne of God, methinks. I see--I hear them yet, and must forever. Jesu, pity!" and leaning against a tree near by, the stalwart friar shivered violently and hid his eyes.

"Why, good brother Martin," said Beltane, setting an arm about him, "doth memory pain thee so, indeed? good Brother Martin, be comforted--"

"Nay, nay--'tis past, but--O my son, I--had a sister!" said the good friar, and groaned. Yet in a while he raised his head and spake again: "And when Duke Ivo had wrought his will upon the city, he builded the great gibbet yonder and hanged it full with men cheek by jowl, and left Sir Gui the cruel with ten score chosen men for garrison. But the men of Belsaye have stubborn memories; Sir Gui and his butchers slumber in a false security, for stern men are they and strong, and wait but God's appointed time. Pray God that time be soon!"