"Thou art mad in very truth! Good Nicanor—sweet Nicanor—let me go, and I'll swear to keep between us this tale of thy doings!"
Nicanor answered nothing. Always his face was blank, but his grip on Hito's wrists was iron. Up and down the room he went, leaping, dancing; and up and down went Hito after him, struggling, sobbing for breath, his unwieldy bulk trembling with fright and weariness. When his steps slackened, through sheer inability to keep up, Nicanor, with a bound forward, dragged him after, so that, to save himself from falling on his face, he bounded also, on his fat legs, with explosive grunts of breathlessness.
Without warning Nicanor increased his speed and danced faster. He also was panting hard, the strain of towing two hundred odd pounds of unwilling flesh being great. His arms and shoulders shone with sweat; on his forehead his hair was plastered and damp.
"Julia, Julia," he cried, "I pray you stop! I can dance no more. Thou art trained to this work, but I—I faint with weariness. Though our lord flay me, I can dance no more!"—and danced the faster.
"Stop! I stop!" gasped Hito, purple in the face. "Deae matres! Am I not trying to stop? Stop thyself, or I die! I am exhausted—I have no breath—have a little pity—Oh, nay, nay, I did not mean it! It is as thou sayest, of course! I—was wrong—to thwart thee! I will do whatever thou sayest, if thou wilt let me go! I—I do not think our lord—likes to see—such rapid motion. It maketh his head to swim. I, Julia, pray thee, not—quite—so fast!"
He lurched and nearly fell, and Nicanor jerked him up again. There was the noise of a door being opened. Nicanor knew it must be the door leading to the passage, since the other was locked. He dropped Hito, who crumpled into an abject heap upon the floor, past speech or motion, and went on dancing by himself. From the tail of his eye he saw Wardo the Saxon and Quartus enter and stand gaping, dumb with amazement. Hito shook his fist at them from the floor and stuttered. When breath enough had entered into him, he screamed at them.
"Bind me this madman! He hath a devil in him. Hold him, I say, until I can speak!"
"Why, he's mad!" said Wardo, staring in awe at Nicanor, who, expressionless, danced invincibly.
"Thou sayest!" Quartus agreed, and stared also. "What hath seized him? Here, lad, what means all this? Stop thy prancing and say what thou hast done to our lord Hito, here."
But Nicanor answered nothing, and danced.