When those of the royalists who had not deserted the King and fledprecipitately toward the coast had regained the castle and the Priory, thecity was turned over to looting and rapine. In this, Norman of Torn andhis men did not participate, but camped a little apart from the town untildaybreak the following morning, when they started east, toward Dover.

They marched until late the following evening, passing some twenty milesout of their way to visit a certain royalist stronghold. The troopsstationed there had fled, having been appraised some few hours earlier, byfugitives, of the defeat of Henry's army at Lewes.

Norman of Torn searched the castle for the one he sought, but, finding itentirely deserted, continued his eastward march. Some few miles fartheron, he overtook a party of deserting royalist soldiery, and from them heeasily, by dint of threats, elicited the information he desired: thedirection taken by the refugees from the deserted castle, their number, andas close a description of the party as the soldiers could give.

Again he was forced to change the direction of his march, this time headingnorthward into Kent. It was dark before he reached his destination, andsaw before him the familiar outlines of the castle of Roger de Leybourn.This time, the outlaw threw his fierce horde completely around theembattled pile before he advanced with a score of sturdy ruffians toreconnoiter.

Making sure that the drawbridge was raised, and that he could not hope forstealthy entrance there, he crept silently to the rear of the greatbuilding and there, among the bushes, his men searched for the ladder thatNorman of Torn had seen the knavish servant of My Lady Claudia unearth,that the outlaw might visit the Earl of Buckingham, unannounced.

Presently they found it, and it was the work of but a moment to raise it tothe sill of the low window, so that soon the twenty stood beside theirchief within the walls of Leybourn.

Noiselessly, they moved through the halls and corridors of the castle untila maid, bearing a great pasty from the kitchen, turned a sudden corner andbumped full into the Outlaw of Torn. With a shriek that might have beenheard at Lewes, she dropped the dish upon the stone floor and, turning,ran, still shrieking at the top of her lungs, straight for the great dininghall.

So close behind her came the little band of outlaws that scarce had theguests arisen in consternation from the table at the shrill cries of thegirl than Norman of Torn burst through the great door with twenty drawnswords at his back.

The hall was filled with knights and gentlewomen and house servants andmen-at-arms. Fifty swords flashed from fifty scabbards as the men of theparty saw the hostile appearance of their visitors, but before a blow couldbe struck, Norman of Torn, grasping his sword in his right hand, raised hisleft aloft in a gesture for silence.

"Hold !" he cried, and, turning directly to Roger de Leybourn, "I have noquarrel with thee, My Lord, but again I come for a guest within thy halls.Methinks thou hast as bad taste in whom thou entertains as didst thy fairlady."

"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 see my mark upon the forehead of yongrinning baboon," replied 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 honored 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.

"Oh, 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.

The Devil of Torn ! Slowly the men standing there at the board of SirRoger de Leybourn grasped the full purport of that awful name.

Tense silence for a moment held the room in the stillness of a sepulchre,and then a woman shrieked, and fell prone across the table. She had seenthe mark of the Devil of Torn upon the dead brow of her mate.

And then Roger de Leybourn spoke:

"Norman of Torn, but once before have you entered within the walls ofLeybourn, and then you did, in the service of another, a great service forthe house of Leybourn; and you stayed the night, an honored guest. But amoment since, you said that you had no quarrel with me. Then why be youhere ? Speak ! Shall it be as a friend or an enemy that the master ofLeybourn greets Norman of Torn; shall it be with outstretched hand or nakedsword ?"

"I come for this man, whom you may all see has good reason to fear me. Andwhen I go, I take part of him with me. I be in a great hurry, so I wouldprefer to take my great and good friend, Peter of Colfax, withoutinterference; but, if you wish it otherwise; we be a score strong withinyour walls, and nigh a thousand lie without. What say you, My Lord ?"

"Your grievance against Peter of Colfax must be a mighty one, that yousearch him out thus within a day's ride from the army of the King who hasplaced a price upon your head, and from another army of men who be equallyyour enemies."

"I would gladly go to hell after Peter of Colfax," replied the outlaw."What my grievance be matters not. Norman of Torn acts first and explainsafterward, if he cares to explain at all. Come forth, Peter of Colfax, andfor once in your life, fight like a man, that you may save your friendshere from the fate that has found you at last after two years of patientwaiting."

Slowly, the palsied limbs of the great coward bore him tottering to thecenter of the room, where gradually a little clear space had been made; themen of the party forming a circle, in the center of which stood Peter ofColfax and Norman of Torn.

"Give him a great draught of brandy," said the outlaw, "or he will sinkdown and choke in the froth of his own terror."

When they had forced a goblet of the fiery liquid upon him, Peter of Colfaxregained his lost nerve enough so that he could raise his sword arm anddefend himself and, as the fumes circulated through him, and the primalinstinct of self-preservation asserted itself, he put up a more and morecreditable fight, until those who watched thought that he might indeed havea chance to vanquish the Outlaw of Torn. But they did not know that Normanof Torn was but playing with his victim, that he might make the torturelong, drawn out, and wreak as terrible a punishment upon Peter of Colfax,before he killed him, as the Baron had visited upon Bertrade de Montfortbecause she would not yield to his base desires.

The guests were craning their necks to follow every detail of thefascinating drama that was being enacted before them.

"God, what a swordsman !" muttered one.

"Never was such swordplay seen since the day the first sword was drawn fromthe first scabbard !" replied Roger de Leybourn. "Is it not marvellous !"

Slowly but surely was Norman of Torn cutting Peter of Colfax to pieces;little by little, and with such fiendish care that, except for loss ofblood, the man was in no way crippled; nor did the outlaw touch hisvictim's face with his gleaming sword. That he was saving for thefulfillment of his design.

And Peter of Colfax, cornered and fighting for his life, was no marrowlessantagonist, even against the Devil of Torn. Furiously he fought; in theextremity of his fear, rushing upon his executioner with frenzied agony.Great beads of cold sweat stood upon his livid brow.

And then the gleaming point of Norman of Torn flashed, lightning-like, inhis victim's face, and above the right eye of Peter of Colfax was a thinvertical cut from which the red blood had barely started to ooze ereanother swift move of that master sword hand placed a fellow to parallelthe first.

Five times did the razor point touch the forehead of Peter of Colfax, untilthe watchers saw there, upon the brow of the doomed man, the seal of death,in letters of blood -- NT.

It was the end. Peter of Colfax, cut to ribbons yet fighting like themaniac he had become, was as good as dead, for the mark of the Outlaw ofTorn was upon his brow. Now, shrieking and gibbering through his frothylips, his yellow fangs bared in a mad and horrid grin, he rushed full uponNorman of Torn. There was a flash of the great sword as the outlaw swungit to the full of his mighty strength through an arc that passed above theshoulders of Peter of Colfax, and the grinning head rolled upon the floor,while the loathsome carcass, that had been a baron of England, sunk in adisheveled heap among the rushes of the great hall of the castle ofLeybourn.

A little shudder passed through the wide-eyed guests. Some one broke intohysterical laughter, a woman sobbed, and then Norman of Torn, wiping hisblade upon the rushes of the floor as he had done upon another occasion inthat same hall, spoke quietly to the master of Leybourn.

"I would borrow yon golden platter, My Lord. It shall be returned, or amightier one in its stead."

Leybourn nodded his assent, and Norman of Torn turned, with a few words ofinstructions, to one of his men.

The fellow gathered up the head of Peter of Colfax, and placed it upon thegolden platter.

"I thank you, Sir Roger, for your hospitality," said Norman of Torn, with alow bow which included the spellbound guests. "Adieu." Thus followed byhis men, one bearing the head of Peter of Colfax upon the platter of gold,Norman of Torn passed quietly from the hall and from the castle.