“Heed him not; he is insane.”
“No; not insane.”
“Speak; what then?”
“I love her! I love her!”
The young girl, who had stood like a statue throughout all the previous scene, gave a start, and, cowering to the ground, buried her face in her hands.
To Wacora the words of Nelatu were no less surprising.
Turning to the shrinking maiden, he said—
“You hear what Nelatu says? He loves you.”
She murmured faintly—“I hear.”
“He loves you. Wacora, too, has loved. That love has been trampled upon, and by your wretch of a brother! Yet still it shall plead for Nelatu. His request is granted. You are spared both life and honour, but must remain a prisoner. Conduct her hence!”