correction shall drive it far from him," quoted the Corporal, taking
up a waggoner's whip which stood by the inn door, and the like of
which had no doubt once been a more familiar weapon to him than the
sword.

"Speak lad--or--" and as no speech came, the lash descended on
Stead's shoulders, not, however, hurting him much save where it
grazed the skin of his face.

"Now? Not a word? Take off his leathern coat, Faithful, then shall
he feel the reward of sullenness."

That Jeph did not interfere, while Faithful and another soldier
tugged off his leathern coat, buffeting and kicking him roughly as
they did so, brought additional hardness to Stead. He had been
flogged in his time before, and not without reason, and had taken a
pride in not giving in, or crying out for pain; and the ancient habit
acquired in a worse cause, came to his help. He scarcely recollected
the cause of his resistance; all his powers were concentrated in
holding out, and when after another "Now, vile prelatic spawn, is thy
heart still hardened? Yes or no?" the terrible whip came stinging
and biting down on his shoulders and back, only protected by his
shirt, he was entirely bound up in the determination to endure the
pain without a groan or cry.

But after blows enough had fallen to mark the shirt with streaks of
blood, Jeph could bear it no longer.

"Hold!" he said. "You will never make him speak that way. Father
and mother never could. Strokes do but harden him."