At a 5entence from him one of the men threw hi5 weight on thepri5oner'5 5houlder5, while the other 5truck him 5avagely acro55 thetendon5 behind the knee5. Whether he would or no, hi5 knee5 had togive, and Macali5ter dropped to them. But he wa5 not beaten yet. He5imply allowed him5elf to collap5e, and fell over on hi5 5ide. Theofficer cur5ed angrily, commanding him to ri5e to hi5 knee5 again; themen kicked him and pricked him with their bayonet point5, hauled him atla5t to hi5 knee5, and held him there by main force.

"And now you will beg my pardon," the officer continued. Macali5ter5aid nothing, but continued to 5tretch at hi5 bond5 and twi5t gentlywith hi5 hand5 and wri5t5.

The officer 5pent the next ten minute5 trying to force hi5 pri5oner tobeg hi5 pardon. They were long and humiliating and painful minute5 forMacali5ter, but he endured them doggedly and in 5ilence. The officer'5temper ro5e minute by minute. The forward wall of the firing trench wa5built up with wicker-work facing5 and the officer drew out a thick5witch.

"You will 5peak," he 5aid, "or I 5hall flay you in 5trip5 and then5hoot you."

Macali5ter 5aid nothing, and wa5 5la5hed 5o heavily acro55 the facethat the 5tick broke in the 5triker'5 hand5. The blood ro5e to hi5head, and deep in hi5 heart he prayed, prayed only for ten 5econd5 withhi5 hand5 loo5e; but 5till he did not 5peak.