Then the door did open, I thought reluctantly, and the Indian woman came out.
"What you want?" she asked.
"Say: 'What you want, Master!'" he yelled at her.
"Why I say that?" she asked, a dull fire of hatred kindling in her eyes.
"Because it's so," he thundered, stamping the ground in fury while his palsied head shook more noticeably.
"You lie," she replied. "You no master of my Lady or me, any more. We go to Great Spirit any time now."
A chill ran over me. What, in God's name, did she mean? Was Sylvia dying? Again Smilax touched my arm to caution prudence.
Efaw Kotee was, I think, trying to control himself, yet his long arms and veiny hands were swinging, pendulum-like, to and fro across his body. It was an uncanny indication of anger, suggesting rather a beast than a human being. The captain was standing silent, with his arms folded.
"Echochee," said the chief, "bring us that punt. We must see your Lady."
"My Lady see no one."