"We played together—it was a fair game. She wrested from me him who was mine by right, and she must take the consequences of her acts—we must all do that. I—yes—Bess, I am ready. I will take the consequences of what I have done. Let me pass, Bess, I will speak to her."
"I pray you!" Bess extended her arms.
"No—let me pass. She and I are accustomed to look each other in the face. I will see how she is. I will! Stand aside."
She had a long staff in her hand, and with it she brushed Bess away, and strode past her, between her and the precipice, with steady eye and firm step, and clambered to where was Urith.
She stood beside her for a minute, studying her, watching her, as she played with her hair, passing her fingers through it, and drawing it forth into the wind to turn and curl, and waft about.
Then, her patience exhausted, Julian put forth the end of her staff, touched Urith, and called her by name.
Urith looked round at her, but neither spake nor stirred. No flush of anger or surprise appeared in her cheek, no lightning glare in her eye.
"Urith," said Julian, "how stands the game?"
"He is dead," answered Urith, "I killed him."