"Know, friend, that there is no
religion a man can pretend to can give a countenance to lying. Thou
hast a precious immortal soul, and there is nothing in the world
equal to it in value. Consider that the great God of Heaven and
Earth, before Whose tribunal thou and we and all persons are to
stand at the last day, will take vengeance on thee for every
falsehood, and justly strike thee into eternal flames, make thee
drop into the bottomless pit of fire and brimstone, if thou offer
to deviate the least from the truth and nothing but the truth. For
I tell thee God is not mocked. On that I charge you to answer
truthfully. How came you to be taken with these rebels?"
Peter Blood gaped at him a moment in consternation. The man was
incredible, unreal, fantastic, a nightmare judge. Then he collected
himself to answer.
"I was summoned that morning to succour Lord Gildoy, and I conceived
it to be the duty imposed upon me by my calling to answer that
summons."
"Did you so?" The Judge, terrible now of aspect - his face white,
his twisted lips red as the blood for which they thirsted - glared
upon him in evil mockery.
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