"You had better not," cautioned his companion. "God will be angry if you do not bring this one to him alive and unharmed. He has been hoping for such a she as this for a long time."
"What does he want of her? He is so old now that he can scarcely chew his food."
"He will probably give her to Henry the Eighth."
"He already has seven wives. I think that I shall hide her and keep her for myself."
"You will take her to God," said the other. "If you don't, I will."
"We'll see about that!" cried the creature that held the girl.
He dropped her and sprang, growling, upon his fellow. As they closed, great fangs snapping, Rhonda leaped to her feet and sought to escape.
The whole thing seemed a hideous and grotesque nightmare, yet it was so real that she could not know whether or not she were dreaming.
As she bolted, the two ceased their quarrelling and pursued her. They easily overtook her, and once again she was a captive.
"You see what will happen," said the beast that had wished to take her to God, "if we waste time quarrelling over her. I will not let you have her unless God gives her to you."