Home-sickness has never been my failing, but all at once I had a vision of my own land, the cradle of my race, well-beloved and unforgotten over the leagues of sea.

Somehow the thought strengthened me.

I had now something besides the thought of Ringan to keep my heart firm.

If all hell laid hold on me, I must stand fast for the honour of my own folk.
The edge of the pile was lit, and the flames crackled through the hay below the faggots.

The smoke rose in clouds, and made me sneeze.
Suddenly there came a desperate tickling in my scalp where the knife had pricked.