Were they to let me go now, the society would be at the mercy of my tongue.
It would be simpler, as some advised, to put me out of harm's way then and there with an ounce of lead in my head.
Presently the consultation ended.
"Give him the oath," said the leader; and the book was held out to me, while a couple of guns were pointed at my head.
It was an ugly choice, I confess.

Little as I understood the nature of the work in hand, I had gathered enough to know that the oath sold me body and soul to men who would stick at nothing to gain their end, and that in taking it I became not only a traitor to the king, but an accomplice of murder and outrage.
Yet what could I do?
Young life is sweet, and hope is not to be thrown away like a burned-out match.

Besides, I longed to see Tim once more before I died, and--I blushed in the midst of my terror--my little mistress.
"Loose my hands," said I, "and give me the book." The muzzles of the guns laid their cold touch on my cheeks as the cord was unfastened.
Then in a sort of dream I held the book and began to repeat the words.
I know not how far I had gone, or to what I had pledged myself, when a sudden shout from one of the sentries brought everything to an end.
"Whisht--soldiers!" was the shout.
In a moment the hollow was almost empty.

Men scuttled away right and left like sheep at the alarm of the dog.

Those who guarded me let me go and raced for the gap.