"Now the question is, where have you concealed it ?" "I will tell you, with all my heart, only spare my life!" "Tell us first, and we will think about your life afterward.

Let me advise you as a friend, my lord, to tell at once, and truthfully," said the duke, toying negligently with the thumb-screws.
"It is buried at the north corner of the old wall at the head of Bradshaw's grave.

You shall have that and a thousandfold more if you'll only pardon--" "Enough!" broke in the dwarf, with the look and tone of an exultant demon.

"That is all we want! My lord duke, give me the death-warrant, and while her majesty signs it, I will pronounce his doom!" The duke handed him a roll of parchment, which he glanced critically over, and handed to the queen for her autograph.

That royal lady spread the vellum on her knee, took the pen and affixed her signature as coolly as if she were inditing a sonnet in an album.