"Ah! Heaven forbid!" said the Duchess.
"Heaven does not forbid, though," said Cynthia, sorrowfully, "and I cannot think why Heaven only looks on."
"Cynthia!" cried the Duchess, suddenly stopping short, and fixing a piercing look on her, "did you bring these people on us?"
"What people, Leila?"
"These pirates!—these Moors!"
"Take the lamp!" cried Cynthia, thrusting it into her hand, and stamping passionately. "Kill me if you will, since you can suspect me! Here's a dagger—I brought it to defend you and myself."
"Nay, but I do not want to suspect you. Put up your dagger, foolish girl. Who talks about killing?" said the Duchess, shrinking from the gleaming steel. "Speak but the word and I will believe you; only, as they are countrymen of yours, and as you so hate the Christians, the thought just crossed me."
"I'll never speak the word," said Cynthia, stubbornly. "You may kill me if you will, but I'll never say!"
And with dilated nostrils, quivering lips, and flaming eyes, she strode on before her mistress. It was not a time or place for the Duchess to take notice of it—to a woman with a dagger!