Tarrano said crisply: "Wolfgar, take these two men to the fourth tower. Make them comfortable."
I met Georg's eyes. Leave Elza here alone with this man? Georg burst out: "My sister goes with me!"
"So?" Tarrano's heavy brows went up inquiringly. A quizzical smile plucked at his lips. "You need have no fear. The Lady Elza——" He swung to her. "Not—afraid, are you?"
"I—no," she stammered.
"She'll come with us," I declared; but the stoutness of my words could not hide my fear. Tarrano was still smiling; but as I took a protecting step toward Elza, his smile died.
"You—will go—with Wolfgar—both of you." That same slow finality. His face was impassive; but under his frowning bushy brows, his eyes transfixed me. It was as though with his paralyzing ray he had rooted me to the spot. And Georg beside me. Yet he had not moved from his careless attitude of ease on the fountain-rim; the little conical golden weapon dangled untouched at his belt.
Elza was frightened. "Jac! You must do what he says. I'm—not afraid."
Again Tarrano was smiling. "No—of course not." His gaze went to Georg. "You are her brother—your fear is very natural. So I give you my word—the honorable word of Tarrano—that she shall come to no harm."
Elza murmured: "Go, Georg." Afraid for us, and doubtless she had good reason to be. It struck me then as queer that Tarrano should waste these words with us; but I realized, as did Elza and Georg, that we were treading very dangerous ground. Georg said, with a sudden dignity at which I marveled:
"Your word is quite enough." He gestured to me. With a last glance at Elza, standing there frightened, but for our sakes striving not to show it, we let this Wolfgar lead us away.