He may have
begun to suspect that he had been duped by a wit keener than his
own, and the thought raised within him the demon of cruelty and
lust of blood. He hated Lord Claud with a deadly hatred, having
been worsted by him in encounters of many kinds. If unable to wreak
his vengeance upon the man himself, to do so upon his follower was
the next best thing.
"Tell me with what messages to the Duke of Savoy you are charged!"
he cried, standing before Tom with flaming eyes. "You are not sent
upon this quest with neither letter nor word. Speak, or you shall
be made to find your tongue!"
"I will speak as much as you like," answered Tom, with haughty
disdain in his tone, though his flesh crept at the sight of the men
knotting the ends of rope in their hands; "but I am charged with no
message. I know nothing of what you would wish to know. You can
flog till you are weary, but you can't get out of me what I do not
know. That at least is one satisfaction."
Montacute waved his hand. The next moment the ropes descended upon
Tom's bare back. He set his teeth, and made no cry, though the
blood came surging to his head, and the room seemed to swim in
blood. Again and again they descended; but the keen pain awoke
within Tom that ferocity of strength which comes to men in their
extremity, so that, like Samson, they can turn the tables upon
their foes.
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