For the first time, then, I saw her smile; but the smile held no correspondence with the tone of slow, quiet contempt in which she next spoke.
"You are trustful, O sciu Johann Constantine. I have heard that all
Englishmen tell the truth, and expect it, and are otherwise mad."
"I trust to nothing, Princess, until I have the Queen Emilia's word.
That I would trust to my life's end."
She nodded darkly. "You shall go to her—if you can find her."
"Tell me where to seek her."
"She lies at Nonza in Capo Corse; or peradventure the Genoese, who hold her prisoner, have by this time carried her across to the Continent."
"Though she were in Genoa itself, I would deliver her or die."
"You will probably die, O Englishman, before you receive her answer; and that will be a pity—yes, a great pity. But you are free to go, you and your company—all but your son here, this King of Corsica that is to be, whom I keep as hostage, with his crown. Eh? Is this not a good bargain I offer you?"
"Be it good or bad, Princess," my father answered, "to make a bargain takes two."
"That is true," said I, stepping forward with a laugh, and thrusting myself between the Corsicans, who had begun to press around with decided menace in their looks. "And therefore the Princess will accept me as the other party to the bargain, and as her hostage."