He raised his hand as if to smite. Æole, comprehending, looked full in his face, calmly but beseechingly. And, as he, for the first time, obtained a clear view of the sweet, innocent, fair, lovely countenance of this child of thirteen, and received the appealing look of eyes beautiful like violets, eyes of a color unknown in Atlantis, the hand, losing force, fell to his side.
Further, as he continued to stare into these eyes, and note the gestures of the small, perfect hands, he understood that she was imploring their return to Pelasgia. But, at his frowning shake of the head, she desisted, to speak in quick, firm tone, to his comprehension:
“Then free my brother, and I will stay.”
At perceiving the king’s threatening hand, Hellen had raised his own to ward off the blow. Great was his astonishment when the king’s hand fell to his side, as he was not aware of Æole’s look or gestures. But, at her words, he started, shocked, and faced her.
“Æole, thou knowest not what thou askest. Thinkest thou I will go, and leave thee here, to the mercy of these?” And he looked with scorn at King Atlano, who was quick to interpret his words.
In spite of himself, Atlano could not but admire Hellen’s courage. He glanced from one to the other, the uncowed demeanor of both so impressing him that he said to those in attendance:
“They are a noble pair, this brother and sister. If we take naught of the spoil of Pelasgia with us to Atlantis, we are rich in them, for their value must bring us fine ransom, and before the sun of the morrow. Meanwhile, let them be held in honor. Maron, lead them whence they came.”
Then he turned to speak apart with Zekil. And Maron conducted the youth and maiden to the outside room.
Later, there was a conference of the king and his few surviving nobles and chief captains when it was decided that the Atlantean fleet would remain where it was, and, on the morrow, dictate terms for the ransom of the captives.
After Atlano had sent away his nobles and captains, he went to look upon the sufferers, and found them reclining upon some cushions, in the very stupor of grief. They heeded him not as he stood and watched them. And many forms did his thoughts take as he noted their beauty and grace. The one that would recur most often was, “I would almost keep them in spite of many ransoms.”