Cormac looked with rage at the girl’s persecutor. Every minute he was attracting attention to her; others besides Cormac had turned their eyes on the pair.
Cormac was powerless; to interfere was to attract more notice to the woman. Her persecutor was one of his own countrymen; of a low, juggling order with a Pictish accent of the coarsest kind—a snake-charmer with gold rings in his ears and a speckled cloak such as the Druids wore. He had ringed himself round with hissing serpents—on arm and ankle, round neck and trunk.
Cormac could see that the girl looked on the serpents with horror. The snake-charmer thrust his hands, out-spread, towards her and contemptuously cracked every finger-joint in her face. With a brutal movement he came a step nearer, so that the vipers thrust their tongues almost in her face—and then, with a dexterous movement slipped one of the serpents from his arm to hers. The girl had stood her ground bravely and uttered no sound; but at this outrage she sprang backward and came with some force against Cormac, who threw one arm around her; and, with the other, cast the serpent in the charmer’s face.
“Fool and meddler!” cried the snake-charmer, angrily. “Leave my business alone. You shall pay for this!”
He recovered the viper; and folding it together with its fellows, slipped them into his breast. There was an angry glitter in his eye, and he withdrew from the spot, muttering ominously.
Cormac feared for the girl’s safety. He looked around for some place of safety for her—there was none. All that could be done was to draw her into the shadow of the felled trees. He turned towards her, and for the first time saw her face.
It was Elgiva, the Saxon!
They stood gazing at each other. They must have remained in this position for some moments when they were startled by screams of wrath—that which Cormac had dreaded now happened.
An angry mob, headed by the snake-charmer, surrounded them—a murderous, screaming crowd which grew larger every moment; serfs drew their whittles and joined in—stragglers and rude horse-boys, armed with clubs and yew-staves, came at the call.
“A woman—a woman!” The angry cry spread like lightning “a woman—a woman in the Men’s Airecht! Deliver her to justice!”