"No, you shall die by my hand," said Otho, slowly and grimly. "No, by Heaven he shall not!" cried a voice near; "whatever he is, Trevanion is a brave man, and he can fight. I would I had known you were here sooner. Ah, I love a man who can fight! Cut the ropes, men, and let him die as a man should!" It was Benet Killigrew who spoke, and I saw his eyes fairly gleam with savage joy. "Yes, it is I, Roger Trevanion," he cried; "I told you we should meet again; I told you we should fight again. Faith, I almost forgive you for having spoiled all my old dad's plans; I shall have a fight after all, a real fight with a man who knows the use of a sword. Aye, but I love you, Trevanion. I love you!" "Benet, this is not your affair," said Otho; "it was agreed upon that this fellow should be taken and killed at all hazards, and that I should see it done." "I care not, Otho. He is a worthy gentleman, and he shall die as becometh one. Oh, you need not fear, I will kill him; but not as a butcher may kill a pig. Cut his cords, men. Nay I will do it myself. There, that's it. Stand up, Roger Trevanion. Ah! they have not taken your sword from you; it is well! Stand around, men; there is plenty of light." For once Otho Killigrew yielded to his brother. Perhaps he was glad to do so, for while it may be easy to kill another in hot fight, a man must have lost his manhood if he willingly and in cold blood will kill another who is helpless and bound. Besides, Otho knew it to be dangerous to stay there. The king's men might come at any minute. "Yes, I will leave you to my brother, Roger Trevanion," he said slowly; "I think I am glad he came. He saves me from doing dirty work." "Very dirty," I replied. "Aye," he said, "just as a hangman's work is dirty. Still it is necessary, and Benet is better fitted for it than I. And before I go, I will give you a little information. I go to see a lady who is a mutual acquaintance. I will tell her how I left you. She will be much interested. You are about to take a long journey, and the end thereof will be dark. I wish you all the joy you can get out of it. I will tell our lady friend about it, as we caress each other and laugh at you." "Coward," I cried, unable to control myself, "base, skulking coward. Come back and fight me," but he laughed in his quiet way as he mounted a horse that stood near-by. "By the way," he continued, "you stole my horse, but Benet will make that all right. You will soon be in congenial company--and so shall I. Good-night!" "You are right, Trevanion," cried Benet in almost a friendly tone. "Otho is a coward; he hath a way with him which drives me mad. Ah, but I love you. Stand around, men. Now draw, man"; and putting himself in a posture of defense, he made his sword whistle about his head. "Had we not better get away to a distance?" asked one who stood by. "We can now do no good by staying, and we may be in danger at any minute."