CHAPTER X.
WINNSOME'S VERDICT OF DEATH The voice--the condemning words--followed Nathaniel as he staggered on between his two guards; it haunted him still as the cold chill of the rotting dungeon walls struck in his face; it remained with him as he stood swaying alone in the thick gloom--the voice rumbling in his ears, the words beating against his brain until the shock of them sickened him, until he stretched out his arms and there fell from him such a cry as had never tortured his lips before.
Strang was alive! He had left the spark of life in him, and the woman who loved him had fanned it back into full flame.
Strang was alive! And Marion--Marion was his wife! The voice of the king taunted him from the black chaos that hid the dungeon walls.

The words struck at him, filling his head with shooting pain, and he tottered back and sank to the ground to get away from them.
They followed, and that vengeful leer of the king was behind them, urging them on, until they beat his face into the sticky earth, and smothered him into what he thought was death.
There came rest after that, a long silent rest.

When Nathaniel slowly climbed up out of the ebon shadows again the first consciousness that came to him was that the word-demons had stopped their beating against his brain and that he no longer heard the voice of the king.

His relief was so great that he breathed a restful sigh.

Something touched him then.