"Why, here's a filthy mean creature to sit on a throne. If I had
known as much of him before as I know to-day, I don't doubt I should
have given cause to be where I am now." And then on a sudden thought:
"And where will Lord Gildoy be, do you suppose?" he asked.

Young Pitt, whom he addressed, turned towards him a face from which
the ruddy tan of the sea had faded almost completely during those
months of captivity. His grey eyes were round and questioning.
Blood answered him.

"Sure, now, we've never seen his lordship since that day at
Oglethorpe's. And where are the other gentry that were taken? -
the real leaders of this plaguey rebellion. Grey's case explains
their absence, I think. They are wealthy men that can ransom
themselves. Here awaiting the gallows are none but the unfortunates
who followed; those who had the honour to lead them go free. It's
a curious and instructive reversal of the usual way of these things.
Faith, it's an uncertain world entirely!"

He laughed, and settled down into that spirit of scorn, wrapped in
which he stepped later into the great hall of Taunton Castle to take
his trial. With him went Pitt and the yeoman Baynes. The three of
them were to be tried together, and their case was to open the
proceedings of that ghastly day.

The hall, even to the galleries - thronged with spectators, most of
whom were ladies - was hung in scarlet; a pleasant conceit, this, of
the Lord Chief Justice's, who naturally enough preferred the colour
that should reflect his own bloody mind.