"I have lost one very
valiant and gentle squire this day. I can ill afford to lose
another. How many men have fallen?"
"I have pricked off the tally," said Aylward, who had come aboard
with his lord. "There are seven of the Winchester men, eleven
seamen, your squire, young Master Terlake, and nine archers."
"And of the others?"
"They are all dead--save only the Norman knight who stands behind
you. What would you that we should do with him?"
"He must hang on his own yard," said Sir Nigel. "It was my vow
and must be done."
The pirate leader had stood by the bulwarks, a cord round his
arms, and two stout archers on either side. At Sir Nigel's words
he started violently, and his swarthy features blanched to a
livid gray.
"How, Sir Knight?" he cried in broken English. "Que dites vous?
To hang, le mort du chien! To hang!"
"It is my vow," said Sir Nigel shortly. "From what I hear, you
thought little enough of hanging others."
"Peasants, base roturiers," cried the other. "It is their
fitting death. Mais Le Seigneur d'Andelys, avec le sang des rois
dans ses veins! C'est incroyable!"
Sir Nigel turned upon his heel, while two seamen cast a noose
over the pirate's neck.
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