"You shall be mine, I swear it!" He darted forward.
But while her right hand held the dagger aloft, her left sought the lamp, and even as he rushed forward with the oath on his lips, the room was wrapt in utter darkness.
He was foiled. A mocking laugh, which resounded through the darkness, did not add to his composure.
"Esther, Esther," he said, in a softer tone, endeavoring to smother his rage, "I will not harm you, I swear it."
And with his hands extended he advanced in the thick gloom; and Esther, with the handle of her poniard, knocked thrice upon the ebony table.
"Dearest Esther,"—he advanced in the direction from whence the knocks proceeded, and came in contact with a form,—the form of a voluptuous woman, with a young bosom warm with life, and young limbs moulded in the flowing lines of the Medicean Venus? No. Precisely the contrary. But he came in contact with a brawny form, which bounded against him, pinioning his arms to his side, at the same moment that another brawny form clasped him from behind. In a moment, ere he had recovered the surprise caused by this double and unexpected embrace, his arms were tied behind his back, a handkerchief was tightly bound across his mouth, and a second kerchief across his eyes, he was lifted from his feet, and borne upon the shoulders of two muscular men. It was not dignified or statesmanlike, but,—historical truth demands the record,—while in this position, the grave statesman kicked, deliberately and wickedly kicked. But he kicked in vain.
Presently he was placed upon his feet again, and seated in a chair whose oaken back reached above his head, and whose oaken arms pressed against his sides. He could not see, but he felt that light was shining on his face.
So suddenly had his capture been achieved, so strange and complete was the transition from the pursuit of the beautiful Esther, to his present blindfolded and helpless condition, that the statesman, for a few moments, almost believed himself the victim of some grotesque and frightful dream.
All was silent around him.
At length a voice was heard, hollow and distinct in its every tone,—