“Sheathe your swords, my lords, and back every man of you! Not one hair of his head shall fall without my permission; and the first who lays hands on him until that consent is given, shall die, if I have to shoot him myself! Sir Norman Kingsley, stand near, and fear not. At his peril, let one of them touch you!”
Sir Norman bent on one knee, and raised the gracious hand to his lips. At the fierce, ringing, imperious tone, all involuntarily fell back, as if they were accustomed to obey it; and the prince, who seemed to-night in an uncommonly facetious mood, laughed again, long and shrill.
“What are your majesty's commands?” asked the discomfited duke, rather sulkily. “Is this insulting interloper to go free?”
“That is no affair of yours, my lord duke!” answered the spirited voice of the queen. “Be good enough to finish Lord Gloucester's trial; and until then I will be responsible for the safekeeping of Sir Norman Kingsley.”
“And after that, he is to go free eh, your majesty?” said the dwarf, laughing to that extent that he ran the risk of rupturing an artery.
“After that, it shall be precisely as I please!” replied the ringing voice; while the black eyes flashed anything but loving glances upon him. “While I am queen here, I shall be obeyed; when I am queen no longer, you may do as you please! My lords” (turning her passionate, beautiful face to the hushed audience), “am I or am I not sovereign here!”
“Madame, you alone are our sovereign lady and queen!”
“Then, when I condescend to command, you shall obey! Do you, your highness, and you, lord duke, go on with the Earl of Gloucester's trial, and I will be the stranger's jailer.”
“She is right,” said the dwarf, his fierce little eyes gleaming with a malignant light; “let us do one thing before another; and after we have settled Gloucester here, we will attend to this man's case. Guards keep a sharp eye on your new prisoner. Ladies and gentlemen, be good enough to resume your seats. Now, your grace, continue the trial.”
“Where did we leave off?” inquired his grace, looking rather at a loss, and scowling vengeance dire at the handsome queen and her handsome protege, as he sank back in his chair of state.