Presently Monella rose, and, waving his hand towards the people not clad in Coryon’s uniforms, he thus addressed them,
“How comes it, that in this place of evil deeds and heinous crimes, I find many of the king’s peaceful subjects—or they who should be peaceful—ranged round and calmly looking on at acts of cold-blooded cruelty against the king’s own child and those he calls his friends? What have ye to say in excuse or extenuation? Choose the highest among ye for a spokesman, and let him come forward and explain this shameful thing, if so he can. Else I may include ye all in the punishment I am here to mete out to these evil-doers.”
At this there was a great hubbub and commotion. Some of Coryon’s companions in the covered-way turned in a panic to make their escape into the interior gallery; but found, to their dismay, that the gates were fast closed and barred against them from within. And when they glanced out at the rocks above, they saw red-coated soldiers, who now lined the heights and kept still arriving in ever-increasing numbers. Dakla and his principal officers had withdrawn at their advance, and now stood, with the priests, crowded together just inside the covered-way. Outside the iron screens the long, trailing branches swept up from time to time, as though seeking to get at those within.
After a hurried conference among the people, one of their number stepped down on to the main terrace and placed himself before Monella.
Templemore stood on one side of Monella’s chair, rifle in hand, with Ergalon close by holding the spare rifles, all ready loaded. He watched with growing wonder the continual arrival of red-coated soldiers on all sides of the rocky ridges. They all carried spears, or swords and shields, and wore the curious helmets ornamented with little silver wings that he had seen in the museum. And now, amongst them, were to be seen many citizens in ordinary dress. But all kept a space between themselves and those who had been there on their arrival; their manner towards these was evidently unfriendly and threatening; and, since the newcomers outnumbered the others, including all Coryon’s people, the position of the latter was growing anything but comfortable. And still the red-coated men kept coming, pushing those in advance of them into positions lower down and farther round the terraces of the enclosure.
There was a general hush when the one who had been chosen spokesman came forward and stood in front of Monella, who asked curtly,
“Thy name?”
“Galaima,” was the reply, given in a clear, unhesitating voice. “I have been chosen by those whom thou didst but now address, to speak in their name. Seeing that punishment hath been spoken of, we desire first to ask what authority thou hast to speak in the king’s name; by what right thou dost threaten us; and who thou art?”
“You have the right to ask those questions,” returned Monella coldly. “Know then that I am King of Manoa—thy king, and the king of Coryon, and of all in this country.”
“King of Manoa!” echoed Galaima in surprise, while similar exclamations broke forth around. “But, my lord—I speak with all respect—how can that be?”