“Yes,” she screamed,—“a mother’s curse! Alcamayn was my first and only born. Oh, there is no need of thy horrid looks! He never knew the relationship. Because of thy spiritual father, Akaza, thou hast a heritage of my hate. But for him I should have claimed my son.”
Seeming to realize that temper had carried her too far, Rahula tried to repair what she had already said. Setos made a threatening gesture toward her, while every one looked at his neighbor, and said in an undertone:
“She is a black magician. Akaza was obliged to take her child away from her.”
Her attendants hissed angrily and stamped with their feet to prevent Yermah from being heard. He realized that the demonstration was against himself personally, and was appalled at the virulence of the attack, but went bravely on.
“Orondo afflicted no one; neither did he commit perfidy. He was never an accuser, and was only angry when there was just cause—”
“Thou art a monstrous liar! He had just cause to be angry with thee, who enticed his first love away, and repaid him with another man’s choice.”
Crossing over to him and shaking her finger in his face, defiantly, Rahula fairly shrieked:
“Thou hast imperiled thy immortal soul! Dearly shalt thou pay for thine own perfidy! I dare tell thee to thy face, thou art guilty of the unpardonable sin! Thou who wert coward enough to compel thy dead friend to marry this poor misguided creature lying at thy feet! For this cause my Alcamayn died in dishonor!”
The warrior-priests clanked their swords angrily, and the smoldering disloyalty was like a tinderbox to the furious gestures and acts of the factions.
Setos grabbed Rahula by the arm and shook her violently before she would heed him.