“The answers to your first questions are for your king’s ear alone,” returned Monella. “As to the last, we came in peace, but interfered to save a maiden from being murdered.”
The other’s face expressed an evil sneer, and he made answer:
“It is not usual, with us, for men to throw away their lives for women. For what you have done yours may be required. Still,” he added diplomatically, “I am not judge nor executioner—unless you resist me. If, therefore, you will surrender like men of peace—as you say you are—and will come with me to tell your tale to my master, I promise you good treatment while in my custody.”
Monella shook his head.
“You have had my answer,” he said. “We seek your king. We will yield ourselves to no one else. And,” he continued, with louder voice, “since you, my friend, dare to deride us for taking a woman’s part, know that in the land we come from we are not accustomed to stand still and look on while women are being murdered. What manner of men are ye who dare openly proclaim so vile a doctrine? Soldiers of a High Priest? Guardians of a ‘religion’ that teaches things like this? The span that shall be left to such a being as ye serve is growing short. His power is waning, his days are even now numbered.” He raised his arm, and extended it towards him he was addressing; then, with gathering force, and even passion, till he seemed like an inspired prophet of old thundering his denunciations against evil-doers—“We came here in goodwill and peace; we may remain to be a withering scourge to you and him you call your master. See to it, and take warning! There must—and there shall—be an end of such deeds as we have this day seen attempted by—as ye have no shame in avowing—the favoured son of your High Priest. Hence from my sight, ere scorn and anger overcome me! I have but to move my finger, and you fall dead before me!”
For the first time in their knowledge of him Templemore and Elwood saw their leader, usually so calm and equable, moved by a passion that was almost uncontrollable. They glanced at one another in surprise; and well indeed they might. For whereas, at first, they had felt almost impatient of his equanimity, and had feared he lacked the sternness to deal with those they were opposed to, yet now they thought only how to restrain his sudden and unlooked-for passion, lest it should embroil them further than was actually necessary.
But the fire of Monella’s rage expired as suddenly as it had kindled.
“You have heard,” he went on, coldly and disdainfully, to the captain of the hostile group. “I have warned you. I spare your life to give you time to do better.”