D'ri sat shoulder to shoulder with me. I could feel his muscles
tighten; I could hear the cracking of his joints and the grinding
of the shackle-chain. "Judas Pr-r-i-e-st!" he grunted, straining
at the iron. Two men leaped into the carriage. There was a crack
of the whip, and the horses went off bounding. We could hear
horsemen all about us and wagons following. I had a stout heart in
me those days, but in all my life I had never taken a ride so
little to my liking. We went over rough roads, up hill and down,
for an hour or more.

I could see in prospect no better destination than our graves, and,
indeed, I was not far wrong. Well, by and by we came to a town
somewhere--God knows where. I have never seen it, or known the
name of it, or even that of the prison where we were first immured.
I could tell it was a town by the rumble of the wheels and each
echoing hoof-beat. The cavalcade was all about us, and now and
then we could hear the sound of voices far behind. The procession
slowed up, horsemen jammed to the left of us, the carriage halted.
I could hear footsteps on a stone pavement.

"You're late," said a low voice at the carriage door. "It's near
eleven."

"Lot o' fooling with the candidates," said one of the horsemen,
quietly. "Everything ready?"

"Everything ready," was the answer.

The carriage door swung open.