The condemned man fell upon his face on the ground as if lifeless, and was dragged away.
The next person to step forward was a woman of about forty years. She trembled in every limb, and threw herself upon the hard stone slabs, sobbing, crying, and praying for mercy. So it seemed to me, though I could judge only by her tears and her attitude of supplication.
"Have you finished the robe that I commanded for the Queen?" asked Christophe, in no gentle tones.
"A little time! A little time, I pray thee, most noble King!"
The interpreter was whispering the translation of these words in my ear.
"You have had a month! To the dungeons with her!" said the King.
The next prisoner who came forward was a middle-aged man. He shook as if with a palsy, but concealed his fear as well as possible. He knelt before the throne.
"Can you duplicate my ring?" asked Christophe.
"I think that I can with a little more time, great King," said the man. "I am working day and night. But if the King will not let me have the sacred symbol, how shall I duplicate it?"
The words caused something to snap within my ear. I looked up anxiously. The King was glaring at the man with eyes of fire. He had thrust his hand into the very face of the prisoner, and on his great thumb I perceived for the first time a circle of grotesque make. It held a common likeness to the sacred symbol which Cynthia had found. The moment that I caught a glimpse of the twisted serpent body I felt that I was safe. It was the very duplicate of the serpent ring that I had in my possession.