Then I flung myself before the Queen in her pitiless beauty, and, as a man distraught, I raved and pleaded, that she would protect this poor girl, that she at least would give me the chance to die fighting by her side. That she would save Astolba, sweet, innocent, frightened child, alone in the hands of demons. That she would save Gaston, my friend—
And all the time the face of Lah was as marble, and I saw no mercy in those firm closed lips.
At length, wearying of my suit, without a word she tore the hem of her garment from my frantic grasp, and had gone.
I sat stupefied with grief, my head in my hands. And then I raged in helpless passion against fate, against a heaven that could let such things be done, and against myself, thus safe in hiding, while she whom I had sworn to protect, and he, my best, my faithful friend, went forth to meet the lingering agony of a cruel death.
Slaves came, and against my will I was clothed in warm and jewelled raiment. Meat and wine and fruit were brought in golden salvers and set before me. I turned from it all in loathing, and then the thought came to me that the Queen had given her word that I should see the end. I would eat then and drink, and force myself to rest, and it would go hard if, at the appointed hour, I broke not my bonds, and took my rightful place beside my friends.
Without knowing it, a tender feeling stole into my heart for that poor child, about to be thrown a sacrifice to the hideous god. I could not bear that she should be hurt or frightened. And the tenderness grew until it was something very like to love that found its place within my breast, and I vowed that if the Queen should really let this monstrous thing be done, that did she care for me as she had said, I would wring her heart without pity and without remorse, in just revenge. But it should not be. Neither should my brave and gallant Lestrade perish, a victim to this horrid worship.
I paced up and down the marble floor like a caged beast, and then I remembered that I must husband my strength, and so, with all my power of will, lay motionless upon the couch and watched the weary hours go slowly by.
But at length the fateful moment came, and with it Lah, resplendent in her jewelled garments, the crown upon her head, the girdle of power about her waist. She had never been more beautiful, and her beauty had never touched me less. Indeed, it was almost hatred that I felt for her in that hour, and I said to her in her own language that which was in my heart.
“If these two die, then never between me and thee is there peace again. Thou shalt be my bitterest foe, and may this right hand of mine wither ere it clasp thine in friendship. May I taste death rather than the honeyed poison of thy lips. The choice is thine. I have spoken. Thou knowest if I keep my word.”
She turned proudly.