"Now," went on the Dark Master, "pray me for Brian's life, mighty one." The giant struggled with himself, for humiliation came hard to him. Then his voice fell curiously low, terrible in its self-restraint. "I pray you for the life of Yellow Brian, O'Donnell." Brian forced himself up, thinking to cry out a warning before it was too late; but Murrough's hand closed over his mouth and forced him back relentlessly. "Bring ropes," said the Dark Master, and ordered Cathbarr to his feet. Men hastened out, and returned with a length of rope, binding the giant's arms behind his back, from elbow to wrist. Then the Dark Master laughed harshly, but Vere leaned toward him, his face troubled. "Do not carry this thing farther, O'Donnell," said the royalist hoarsely. "This man is a fool, but he has a great heart. Let be." For answer the Dark Master whirled on him with such fury in his snarl that Vere drew back hastily, and no more words passed between them at that time. O'Donnell rose and walked down the hall toward Cathbarr, in his hand a little switch that he used upon that wolfhound of his. "Now," he said softly, yet his voice pierced hard through the dead stillness, "in token that your humility in this affair is without guile, Cathbarr of the Ax, bow your head to me." The giant obeyed, closing his eyes. The Dark Master lifted his hand and cut him twice across the head with his switch, while Brian gasped in amazement and looked for Cathbarr to strike out with his foot. But although the giant shuddered, he made no move, and the Dark Master strode back to his seat with a laugh. Then Cathbarr raised his face, and Brian saw that it was terribly convulsed. "Do with me as you wish," he said, still in that low voice. "But now let Brian be freed in my presence." The Dark Master flung back his head in a laugh, and when the men saw his jest, a great howl of derision rang up to the rafters. Only Vere's officers looked on with black faces, for it was plain that this affair was none of their liking. A look of simple wonder came into Cathbarr's wide-set eyes. "Why do you not loose him?" he asked quietly. "Fetch the man out, Murrough," ordered the Dark Master. "Shoot him if he speaks." Now, whether through some shred of mercy--for he knew well that Brian would cry out--or for some other reason, Murrough leaned down swiftly to Brian's ear. "Careful," he whispered as he motioned his men forward. "Play the part, and mind that this thing is not yet finished." The warning came in good time, and cooled Brian's raging impulse. He was lifted from behind the table, his chains clanking, and laid upon it; Cathbarr gave a great start and bellowed out one furious word: "Dead!" "Nay," smiled the Dark Master. "His eyes are open, and he is but weak with his wounds, Cathbarr. Now say--would you sooner that we cut off that right hand of his, or blinded him? One of these things I shall do before I loose him, for I said only that I would take your life for his."