“I go whither I am ordered,” he answered, “for there is one here greater than I.”
“If you mean the Gentile Orme and his fellows, the command of the Prince Joshua is that you hand them over to us that they may make report to him of their doings this night.”
“And the command of the Child of Kings is,” replied the captain of the Mountaineers, “that I take them with her back to the palace.”
“It has no weight,” said the spokesman insolently, “not being endorsed by the Council. Surrender the Gentiles, hand over to us the person of the Child of Kings of whom you have taken possession, and return to your post till the pleasure of the Prince Joshua be known.”
Then the wrath of Maqueda blazed up.
“Seize those men!” she said, and it was done instantly. “Now, cut the head from him who dared to demand the surrender of my person and of my officers, and give it to his companions to take back to the Prince Joshua as my answer to his message.”
The man heard, and being a coward like all the Abati, flung himself upon his face before Maqueda, trying to kiss her robe and pleading for mercy.
“Dog!” she answered, “you were one of those who this very night dared to attack my chamber. Oh! lie not, I knew your voice and heard your fellow-traitors call you by your name. Away with him!”
We tried to interfere, but she would not listen, even to Orme.
“Would you plead for your brother’s murderer?” she asked, alluding to Quick. “I have spoken!”