“Yes, oh, yes,” gasped Roger, “five minutes—say ten, only make it ten, or a quarter of an hour, and it will do us a world of—h-o-o! ha! ho-oh!”

A knife glittered before the footman’s eyes ere he had finished his sentence, and he sank upon his knees very humbly and meekly.

If any lot of poor wretches ever prayed fervently they did so on this occasion.

Roger, who seldom had said a prayer in all his life before, fired away very rapidly.

Each one was endeavouring to pray more than the other, and the most wicked among them were loudest.

“Be quick,” said the chief, sternly, “be quick with your praying; the hanging must commence at once. We will begin with the men.”

Many of the servants called down more hearty curses on the Skeleton Band than they did blessings on their own heads during their prayers; but it was useless to offer resistance, for each was in the power of a grim, gaunt enemy.

“Rise!” said the Skeleton Chief.

All the servants did so, except Roger.

“Rise,” said the Skeleton. “Don’t you know we are in a hurry?”

“I haven’t finished my prayers yet,” piously gasped the suddenly converted footman.

“How long does it take you?” asked one of the Skeletons, chuckling.

“All night sometimes,” said Roger, with a sigh.

[Pg 14]

[Pg 14]

“Oh, then, you are pious?”

“Yes, I always was.”

“Then as you are so much, the better prepared than the rest, we’ll hang you first.”

Roger groaned and rose up like a shot.

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