For a moment she deliberated on the simplest way out of a false position, false enough and to most women terrifying, although her high spirit ignored its danger. Distasteful as it was to make terms with the ruffian, it yet seemed the most sensible way out. A scandal would to her proud spirit be hateful, and then there was Chancellor Rollmar to think of.
“I am content to pay for my folly in coming to this den of jugglery,” she said composedly. “I will give you two gold ducats beyond what you have already extorted.”
“I must have more than that,” he demanded threateningly. “What? Five ducats all told? It is absurd. Princesses do not come to me every day.”
As he spoke he made a grab at her purse and thrust it into the folds of his gown. “Now, your jewels, my Princess; they are trifles to you but much to me. Come! Don’t force my need to extremity. Pay your ransom, and then you shall go.”
Her hood was thrown back now, disclosing the proud beauty of her face in its defiant indignation. The lips were set in unutterable contempt and loathing. It was the first great indignity she had ever suffered, but if the situation brought its inevitable fear, that was repressed behind the steady, scornful eyes. Parabosco could not meet the look, could not raise his greedy eyes beyond the diamond at her breast.
“You shall pay for this, you ruffian,” she said between her teeth.
“I care not,” he flung back, “so that you pay first. Hand over your jewels, or must I take them?”
In her determination she glanced round as though for a weapon of defence, but none was available. Interpreting her look, the man sprang forward and clutched her wrist, at the same time endeavoring to force the rings from her fingers. It was the fellow’s brutal touch that now for the first time beat down her courage and extorted a cry for help.
“Minna!” she called desperately. “Minna! Come! Quickly!”
“It is useless to call,” the fellow protested as he struggled to open her clenched hand. “Your friend cannot hear you. You had best be quiet. So!”