"Ha--thou fool!" he laughed jovially, "did'st think to escape me, then --thou fool, I have followed on thy tracks all day. By the eyes of God, I would have followed thee to hell! I want thee in Garthlaxton--there be gibbets for thee above the keep--also, there are my hounds--aye, I want thee, Messire Beltane who art Duke of Pentavalon! Ho! Arnulf--a halter for his ducal throat!" So, when they had cast a noose about his neck, they dragged Beltane, choking, to his feet, and led him away gasping and staggering through the green; and having eyes, he saw not, and having ears, he heard not, being very spent and sick.
Now, as they went, evening began to fall.