“It was—up a tree, my lady.” Formerly this would have been mentioned with pride, but now Danaë blushed.
“Could you see the murderers?” asked Wylie quickly.
Her eyes sought her brother’s face anxiously, but in vain. “Yes, lord,” she admitted with reluctance.
“What were they like?” asked Professor Panagiotis.
“They wore the clothes of the guard, lord,” after another wild glance at Prince Romanos. Danaë knew by the demeanour of her audience that she must be establishing some very serious charge against her brother, but its nature she could not define.
“Was there anyone among them that you knew?” asked Maurice. Her lips moved, but no answer came.
“Was Petros one of them?” asked Wylie, with a sudden inspiration, and Danaë threw Petros to the wolves without a qualm. He was a good way off, and if he was discredited beforehand his recrimination might be robbed of its power.
“Yes, lord; Petros was there.”
“Was that why you were running away from him afterwards?”
“Surely, lord. I feared that he would take the little lord and slay him.”