"Wretches!" cried Ebbo, striking right and left with the back of his
sword, among the serfs, and then cutting the thong that was eating
into the prisoner's flesh, while Friedel caught up a wooden bowl,
filled it with pure water, and offered it to the captive, who drank
deeply.
"Now," said Ebbo, "hast ought to say for thyself?"
A low curse against things in general was the only answer.
"What brought thee here?" continued Ebbo, in hopes of extracting some
excuse for pardon; but the prisoner only hung his head as one
stupefied, brutally indifferent and hardened against the mere trouble
of answering. Not another word could be extracted, and Ebbo's
position was very uncomfortable, keeping guard over his condemned
felon, with the sulky peasants herding round, in fear of being balked
of their prey; and the reluctance growing on him every moment to
taking life in cold blood. Right of life and death was a heavy
burden to a youth under seventeen, unless he had been thoughtless and
reckless, and from this Ebbo had been prevented by his peculiar life.
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