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The sergeant turned our way again and spoke to the bailiff on my left, the one who'd kept silent. "Ever heard a big gun like this go off?" he asked.The bailiff shook his head. "Well, it's loud enough to burst your eardrums. You need to cover them like this!" he instructed, clapping his hands over his ears. "But if I were you, I'd walk back about a hundred paces or so. The lad won't be able to cover his ears, 'will he?" He looked at my wrists, still clamped apart by the wooden board."Bit o' noise won't matter much to this lad. Not where he's going. Murdered a priest, he did, and he'll hang before the month's out."Well, in that case it won't do no harm to give him a small dose of hell to be going on with!" said the sergeant, staring at me with open disgust as he strutted back to the ca
A cloud of smoke hung in the air about the ca
"Aye, help yourself, lad," he laughed. Of course, I couldn't lift the jug, and when I knelt down close to it, intending to lick beads of water from its neck, he simply moved it out of reach and warned me to sit back down or he'd give me a thumping.By sunset my mouth and throat were parched. Nowell had already ridden back in the direction of Read Hall. The failing light had halted work for the day and, leaving one young gu
"Tuck in, boy," Cobden invited, but when I tried to kneel and bring my mouth down close to the plate, it was snatched up and the contents thrown into the fire.They all laughed, thinking it a great joke, and I sat there, hungry and thirsty, -watching it splutter and burn -while they ate. It was getting darker and the cloud had gradually thickened toward sunset. I hadn't much hope of sneaking away because they'd decided to take turns watching me and the soldiers would have their own sentry posted anyway.Half an hour later, Cobden was on guard while the others slept. Barnes was snoring loudly with his mouth wide open. The two bailiffs had nodded off the moment they stretched themselves out on the grass.I didn't even bother trying to sleep. The board fastened to my wrists was tight and starting to hurt, and my head was churning with all the things that had happened-my encounters with Wurmalde and Tibb and my failure to save poor Father Stocks. Cobden had no intention of allowing me to drop off anyway."If I have to stay awake, then so shall you, boy!" he snarled, kicking my legs to drive the point home.After a while, though, it seemed to me that he was having trouble staying awake himself. He kept yawning and pacing about before coming across to give me another kick. It was a long, uncomfortable night but then, about an hour or so before dawn, Cobden sat down on the grass with a glazed expression in his eyes. His head would nod before jerking back to wakefulness, and each time, he glared at me as if it were entirely my fault. After this had happened four or five times, his head dropped onto his chest and he began to snore gently. I looked across toward the soldiers' camp fire. They were some distance away, so I couldn't be absolutely certain, but none of them seemed to be moving. I realized that this was the one chance I might get to escape, but I waited a few more minutes to make sure that Cobden was fast asleep.At last, very slowly, I stood up, afraid to make the slightest noise. But as soon as I was on my feet, to my dismay, I glimpsed something moving in the trees. It -was some distance away, but something gray or white seemed to flicker. Then I saw another movement a little farther to the left. Now I was certain, so I crouched down low. I -was right. Figures were moving toward me through the trees to the south. Could it be more soldiers? Reinforcements? But they didn't march like soldiers. They seemed to glide silently, like ghosts. It was almost as if they were floating.I had to get away before they arrived. The board clamping my -wrists -would affect my balance and make ru