Maulfry's eyes shifted like lightning from one to the other. She felt her rage rising, but swallowed it down.
"You little fool," she said, "you little fool, his life is in danger."
"I have warned him, Maulfry. It was in danger."
"Warned him! I can do better than that. Why, your own is as shaky as his. You have brought it about by your own folly, and now you are like to let him be killed. Take me to him, child, for his sake and yours."
"You will never see him, Maulfry."
Maulfry hesitated for a second or two. She was very angry at this trouble.
"You are a great fool for such a little body, Isoult," she said; "more than I had believed. Come now, let me pass." She made to go on: Isoult, to get ready, stepped back a step, but Vincent slipped in between them. He was shaking all over.
"Stay where you are, dame," he said.
Maulfry gave a jump.
"Bastard!" She spat at him, and whipped a knife into his heart. Vincent sobbed, and fell with a thud. In a trice Isoult had struck with her dagger at Maulfry's shoulder. Steel struck steel: the blade broke short off at the haft.