Ben Hu Barabe, Hanabusa, Yermah and Cezardis closed in around him, but he broke away from their restraint and boldly bantered Ildiko for an exchange of rings. He had the face of a fiend, as he said:
“Wilt thou not, for old times’ sake, give me one of thy little rings in return for one of mine? Choose among these,” he continued, holding up a hand loaded with beautiful gems, quaintly set.
She looked at him unsteadily, simpered foolishly and was about to make some maudlin reply, when Orondo, white with anger, whispered to her:
“Make the exchange quickly. Thou art under observation.”
Startled by his tone, and only half-comprehending the situation, Ildiko slipped off her wedding ring, a flat silver band covered with an intricate gold interlaced filigree. Without looking at it, she handed it to Alcamayn, receiving from him a diamond marquise for her little finger.
“What did I tell thee!” cried the hunchback triumphantly. “Thou knowest the pledge that goes with this? Poor Orondo! I envy thee not!”
Alcamayn turned with a sneer on his ugly face, just as Orondo, who had risen, made a pass at him with his sword. The weapon went wide of its mark, but the outraged husband lurched forward, and fell heavily to the floor, before the horrified spectators could offer assistance.
Yermah raised the fallen head, and as he did so blood spurted from the half-open mouth. Orondo groaned and shivered. His breath came in one stertorous gasp, and all was still.
“It is death!” cried Yermah, in alarm, “death, sudden and terrible! My poor friend!” he repeated, as Setos leaned over and peered into the ashen countenance. Hanabusa hustled Alcamayn roughly, but held him in a vise-like grip.
“Thou art a murderer,” he exclaimed, “and must answer well for this! Thou art my prisoner!”