“I’ll twist you loose,” he said, “you—(rattle, shake)—you—(kick, bang)——” And here the shocking young man used words so violent and wicked that Elaine put her hands tight over her ears. “Why, he is just as dreadful as papa, just exactly!” she exclaimed to herself. “Whoever would have thought that that angelic face—but I suppose they are all like that sometimes.” And she took her hands away again.
“Yes, I will twist you loose,” he was growling hoarsely, while the kicks and wrenches grew fiercer than ever, “or twist myself stark, staring blind—and——”
“Oh, sir!” she said, running out in front of the cage.
He stopped at once, and stood looking at her. His breast-plate and gauntlets were down on the floor, so his muscles might have more easy play in dealing with the bars. Elaine noticed that the youth’s shirt was of very costly Eastern silk.
“I was thinking of getting out,” he said at length, still standing and looking at her.
“I thought I might—that is—you might——” began Miss Elaine, and stopped. Upon which another silence followed.
“Lady, who sent you here?” he inquired.
“Oh, they don’t know!” she replied, hastily; and then, seeing how bright his face became, and hearing her own words, she looked down, and the crimson went over her cheeks as he watched her.
“Oh, if I could get out!” he said, desperately. “Lady, what is your name, if I might be so bold.”
“My name, sir, is Elaine. Perhaps there is a key somewhere,” she said.