All the other men had gone, running back along the road.

His blood was up, and the thorn pricks stung him sorely.
Saying no word, out of his lair he came with that terrible sword of his aloft.
The men caught sight of him, and gave a gasp of fear.

It was the last sound that one of them ever made.

Then the other turned and ran like a hare.

This was he who had uttered the threat.
"Stop!" whispered Peter, as he overtook him--"stop, and do what you promised." The brute turned, and asked for mercy, but got none.
"It was needful," said Peter to Castell presently; "you heard--they were going to wait for us." "I do not think that they will try to murder any more Englishmen at that inn," panted Castell, as he ran along beside him..