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"Now fire the maske. Have you gotten her charged?"

"Aye, Master, she's ready."

A long gun, with a bore as slim as an ash-pole, was fired next. She made a great bark, and at the same time loud screams went up from the spectators. There was a crowd watching now. The slope of Starvencrow Hill was dark with folk, run up from the cottages of Farthingland and Udgeham, while all the household of La Petite Douce stood at the orchard gate.

Another demy-cannon was fired and then a culverin, and soon the Leasan villagers were there, for a test of ordnance was almost as good to watch as a hanging. Every now and then either Douce or Alard had to drive the people back; they came pressing round, to their own danger and that of the gunners. The young Harmans who still had hold of Condemnation tried to bring her right up to the gun-carriage.

"Nay, stand back there!" cried Charles, suddenly catching sight of a girl's face shrivelled with terror. He knew who she was, though he saw less of the Harman family than his brother Gervase; and he saw that she was in an extremity of fear. Those louts were holding her and making sport of her.