Hanged! Even Sharpe could not suppress the slight bow of his mouth. Hanged -- the threat hung heavy. He'd lived under that threat before, had faked a hanging, and had once known a devil who'd survived one. He wondered -- briefly -- if Faith knew the dire nature of the threat she now described. He wonder if she understood the horror. Not that Sharpe disagreed with the punishment; he'd personally ordered the hangings of a number of men for a number of crimes. Theft. Murder. Rape. His stomach turned.

"What stayed your hand...?" Mercy? Fear? Shame?