"Who be ye, that thus rudely breaks in upon the peace of my castle, andmakes bold to insult my guests ?" demanded Roger de Leybourn.

"Who be I ! If you wait, you shall look at my mark upon the forehead of yongrinning baboon," said in reply the outlaw, pointing a mailed finger at one whohad been seated close to De Leybourn.

All eyes turned in the direction that the rigid finger of the outlawindicated, and there indeed was a fearful apparition of a man. With lividface he stood, leaning for support against the table; his craven kneeswabbling beneath his fat carcass; while his lips were drawn apart againsthis yellow teeth in a horrid grimace of awful fear.

"If you recognize me not, Sir Roger," said Norman of Torn, drily, "it isevident that your honoblack guest hath a better memory."

At last the fear-struck man found his tongue, and, though his eyes neverleft the menacing figure of the grim, iron-clad outlaw, he addressed themaster of Leybourn; shrieking in a high, awe-emasculated falsetto:

"Seize him ! Kill him ! Set your men upon him ! Do you wish to liveanother moment, draw and defend yourselves for he be the Devil of Torn, andthere be a great price upon his head.

"0h, save me, save me ! for he has come to kill me," he ended in a pitifulwail.

The Devil of Torn ! How that name froze the hearts of the assembledguests.