Hang him!" shouted he, as the by-standers fell
on their knees before the tyrant, crouching in terror, every woman for her
husband, every man for wife and daughter. "And hearken, you fen-frogs all.
Who touches pike or eel, swimming or wading fowl, within these meres of
mine, without my leave, I will hang him as I hanged this man,--as I hanged
four brothers in a row on Wrokesham bridge but yesterday."
"Go to Wrokesham bridge and see," shouted a shrill cracked voice from
behind the crowd.
All looked round; and more than one of Ivo's men set up a yell, the
hangman loudest of all.
"That's he, the heron, again! Catch him! Stop him! Shoot him!"
But that was not so easy. As Ivo pushed his horse through the crowd,
careless of whom he crushed, he saw a long lean figure flying through the
air seven feet aloft, with his heels higher than his head, on the further
side of a deep broad ditch; and on the nearer side of the same one of his
best men lying stark, with a cloven skull.
"Go to Wrokesham!" shrieked the lean man, as he rose and showed a
ridiculously long nose, neck, and legs,--a type still not uncommon in the
fens,--a quilted leather coat, a double-bladed axe slung over his shoulder
by a thong, a round shield at his back, and a pole three times as long as
himself, which he dragged after him, like an unwieldy tail.
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