"Ah!" said Denys solemnly, and trembling now with rage, "look on the
sockets out of which thou hast picked the eyes, and let them blast thine
eyes, that crows shall pick out ere this week shall end. Now, hold thou
that while I search on. Hold it, I say, or here I rob the gallows--" and
he threatened the quaking wretch with his naked sword, till with a groan
he took the skull and held it, almost fainting.
Oh! that every murderer, and contriver of murder, could see him, sick,
and staggering with terror, and with his hair on end, holding the cold
skull, and feeling that his own head would soon be like it. And soon
the heap was scattered, and alas! not one nor two, but many skulls were
brought to light, the culprit moaning at each discovery.
Suddenly Denys uttered a strange cry of distress to come from so bold
and hard a man; and held up to the torch a mass of human hair. It was
long, glossy, and golden. A woman's beautiful hair. At the sight of it
the archers instinctively shook the craven wretch in their hands: and he
whined.
"I have a little sister with hair just so fair and shining as this,"
gulped Denys. "Jesu! if it should be hers! There quick, take my sword
and dagger, and keep them from my hand, lest I strike him dead and wrong
the gibbet. And thou, poor innocent victim, on whose head this most
lovely hair did grow, hear me swear this, on bended knee, never to
leave this man till I see him broken to pieces on the wheel even for thy
sake.
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