"He would have died sooner. He was drawn up from the well more dead than alive, and was ill for days after, but he never breathed a word about the torture he had been put to, except to me." "But why didn't you acquaint his lordship with what went on? You couldn't be afraid of the big brother." "I was afraid of my hero's contempt. He would have thought me dastardly, traitorous, I know not what, if I had told tales of the cruelty he was too proud to complain of himself. But there came an end to the business, and I made it. Looking for Edmund one day, I went into an outhouse, where Sheffield had the little fellow across his knee, held fast as in a vice, and the demon was pinching his tender body with slow, screwing pinches. Edmund was writhing and moaning. I didn't stop to think, but struck the tormentor's cheek as hard as I could with my fist, and the next instant we were going at each other with all our might. I was only a lad of fourteen and he a man of twenty-four, but I was tall and strong for my age. He knocked me down pretty often, but I was up like a cat and flew at him again, until, either in fear lest he should kill me, or in fear for himself, he opened the door and ran. Shortly afterward, as Edmund led me across the courtyard--for both my eyes were puffed up so that I could not see--it chanced that the earl met us, and would have an account of what I had been doing. Nothing loth, I answered his questions, and he heard enough to make him careful Edmund suffered no more at the hands of his brother. The dear little fellow died a year later. I could tell you more, but do you wonder I hate my Lord Sheffield?" "No," answered John. "I don't wonder at that. I am inclined to wonder that he is still alive." "I have had very little to do with him since Edmund's death. The earl, who used to have a kindness for me, seemed to shun the sight of me from that time forward." In the afternoon Luke appeared, grinning as he entered the room. "What tickles you so much?" I asked. "That Dutchman," answered Luke, laughing outright. "Was as scart as if 'a'd seen a bogle, when 'a oppened t' letter, and said sommat in 's own lingo, swearing like. Asked me when you gev it me. So I says, 'This morning, when 'a came down to breakfass.' Then 'a stared at me with his mouth as wide as a church door, and I stared at him as simple as a sheep." We laughed, and I opened Vliet's letter. He had written in Dutch for some unimaginable reason, perhaps because he was puzzled and shaken out of his wits. Drury reached out his hand. "I have some acquaintance with the tongue," he said. Vliet accepted my challenge, and would meet me the next evening at six o'clock at a spot about three-quarters of a mile from my present lodging, where we might be free from interruption. He would come alone. He chose the sword as his weapon, and sent me its length.