"One whom thou hast wrongfully imprisoned. The friar Martin."

"I have not got him here."

"But thou hast, and we have come to claim him."

"Choose three of your number. They may come and confer with me in
the castle upon his disappearance. God forbid that I should lay
hands on His ministers."

"Dost thou pledge thy honour for their safety?"

"Do ye doubt my honour? Oh, well; so ye may well do, if ye think I
would have touched brother Martin."

He was so plausible that they were ashamed of their distrust, and
selected three of their foremost men, who forthwith entered.

The gates were shut behind them.

And then, oh, shame to say! They were seized from behind, their
arms bound behind their backs, and, in spite of their protests, led
out on the watch tower, where was a permanent gibbet, and, in sight
of all their comrades, hung over the battlements.

"That is how my honour bids me treat with outlaws," laughed Drogo.

A flight of arrows was the reply, which penetrated every crevice,
and made six troopers stretch their bodies on the ground.