I saw him judged.

Was he not of the White Wolf?
Did the White Wolf save him?
Have her teeth ravened for those that condemned him?
Or have you that are of that noble society kept close in your halls and played out your puppet shows, while poor Hans, who was faithful to you to the end, went--whither ?" A sough of angry whispering filled the room, rising presently into a roar of indignation.
"Traitor! Murderer! Spy!" they cried.
"Nay," said I, "'fore God, Hugo Gottfried was more sorry for the poor deceived slave than any here.

For, in the presence of the Duke, I cried out against the horror.

But being no more than a boy, I was stricken to silence by the hand of a man-at-arms.

Then I saw Hans Pulitz cast loose.
I saw him seized by one man--even by the Red Axe--raised high in the air, and flung over the barriers among the ravening and leaping blood-hounds.
I heard the hideous noises that followed--the yells of a man fighting for his life in a place of fiends.