The Greek was choking with rage, with excitement, with biting jealousy. For a moment after his act he could not speak. Ribâta regarded him with frowning amazement. He said nothing, however, till Charmides, with a convulsive breath, opened his lips and began, very quietly:
"My Lord Ribâta—"
"Knave!" thundered my lord, finding his voice. "Out of my way!" He lifted his hand to strike, but Charmides rather nonplussed him by awaiting the blow without a movement. He merely stood, white-faced and unflinching, looking Ribâta in the eyes.
"My Lord Ribâta," he repeated, still more gently, "I beg you as a man, as one of the judges of the Great City, to hear me. This lady whom you would purchase for gold to be your slave is my promised wife."
"Are you wedded?" asked Ribâta, quickly.
"No, no, no!" screamed Beltani, shrilly, hurrying forward.
"No," admitted Charmides, with that extreme of calm that held Ribâta's attention in spite of himself. "No. She is but my promised wife."
"He lies, my lord!"
"But can I see her whom I love taken from me without one word? Nay, verily, it must be over a lifeless body that Ramûa goes to you."
It was all the plea that Charmides could make; yet perhaps it had stood him in good stead if Beltani had not been there. She, flashing-eyed and furiously angry, cried loudly: