"Traitress!" cried the genius, "is not this man your lover?"
She lifted up her eyes slowly, and looked sadly at me. "I never saw him before," she answered slowly. "I do not know who he is."
"What!" exclaimed the genius, "you owe all your sufferings to him, and yet you dare to say he is a stranger to you!"
"But if he really is a stranger to me," she replied, "why should I tell a lie and cause his death?"
"Very well," said the genius, drawing his sword, "take this, and cut off his head."
"Alas," answered the princess, "I am too weak even to hold the sabre. And supposing that I had the strength, why should I put an innocent man to death?"
"You condemn yourself by your refusal," said the genius; then turning to me, he added, "and you, do you not know her?"
"How should I?" I replied, resolved to imitate the princess in her fidelity. "How should I, when I never saw her before?"
"Cut her head off," then, "if she is a stranger to you, and I shall believe you are speaking the truth, and will set you at liberty."
"Certainly," I answered, taking the sabre in my hands, and making a sign to the princess to fear nothing, as it was my own life that I was about to sacrifice, and not hers. But the look of gratitude she gave me shook my courage, and I flung the sabre to the earth.