“Return to Smerwick? I shall not let you!”
“Indeed,” said I, with some heat. “You are not my commander, and I owe you no obedience. It is not yours to say what I shall do; that is the right of my mistress alone.”
“Your mistress!” said Fitzmaurice with a sneer.
My hand went to my sword, but de Vilela, who had so far taken no part in the conversation, interfered.
“Señor,” said he to Fitzmaurice sternly, “you can mean no disrespect to the lady, Grace O’Malley; she is my dear friend——”
“Señor,” said I, interrupting him, “this affair is mine.”
“Señor Ruari” said he, “had any offence been intended, it would have been mine, too.”
Fitzmaurice, who quickly saw that he had made a mistake, declared that he had neither said nor implied anything to the despite of my mistress, but his look was sullen, and I wondered at him.
It was apparent that he had something on his mind that was not favourable to her, but he said no more. It was possible that he had heard about her in connection with Desmond, so I concluded, and this urged me to the more haste in leaving Tralee.
“I am going to Smerwick at once,” said I to them both.