"Nay," he answered, "God has spoken to me. My God and your God."

Another hour passed, and they were resting by the spring of water, near
to the shadow of the dreadful tree, for in that gorge the sun burned
fiercely. John counted the bodies that swung upon it, and again looked
fearfully at Owen, for there were twenty of them.

"I desire to go up to that tree," Owen said to the guard.

"As you will, Messenger," answered their leader; "I have no orders to
prevent you from so doing. Still," he added with a solemn smile, "it is
a place that few seek of their own will, and, because I like you well,
Messenger, I pray it may never be my duty to lead you there of the
king's will."

Then Owen went up to the tree and John with him, only John would not
pass beneath the shadow of its branches; but stood by wondering, while
his master bound a handkerchief about his mouth.

"How did he know that the breath of the tree is poisonous?" John
wondered.

Owen walked to the bole of the tree, and breaking off some of the
finger-like leaves of the creeper that twined about it, he pressed
their milky juice into a little bottle that he had made ready. Then he
returned quickly, for the sights and odours of the place were not to be
borne.

Outside the circle of the branches he halted, and removed the