She snatched the pistol from Sobrenski's hand, and he stepped back a pace, throwing up his arm instinctively as she raised, levelled and fired.
The weapon clicked harmlessly, her hand dropped to her side, and she stood shivering, and wondering at her own madness. The whole thing had been done without thinking, as an animal driven into a corner turns, snarling and showing its teeth.
Sobrenski recovered himself first and laughed.
"So you thought it was loaded?" he said. "Do you take me for a fool?
Allow me to congratulate you on your—failure!"
Then changing his tone of sarcasm to command: "You must hide that pistol carefully. Put it inside your dress or somewhere safe. I suppose you would like to march down the Paséo de Gracia, carrying it in your hand, and wearing a tragic expression,—and get locked up by the first agent de police you meet! You have pluck enough, but you should avoid these exhibitions of hysteria."
He gripped her by the shoulder, swung her round, and pointed to the door, "Allez!"
CHAPTER XXI
"My crown is without leaves,
For she sits in the dust and grieves,
Now we are come to our kingdom."
"Anthony and Cleopatra," KIPLING.
Once more the procession of conspirators toiled on its way up the irregular mountain path. The horses slipped and stumbled under their unskilful riders, the mules climbed steadily upwards. No one spoke.
As usual Arithelli led the way.