“You made your way into two households—mine first and then the Lady Zoe’s—with false tales. Why should we have believed them if you had not cast a spell upon us? Through you my two servants lost their lives, I my wife, and Janni his mother. What harm you have wrought here I have not heard yet—but no doubt you have begun your evil work. You are discovered now, Lady Danaë, and you shall carry your fame home with you.”
“Oh, lady, lady mine! You won’t let them—” the words came brokenly as Danaë swayed and caught at Zoe. “You don’t believe—— Am I really a witch?”
“Prince, how can you?” began Zoe, but Armitage took the shaking form from her arms, and turned upon Prince Romanos with honest indignation.
“You miserable hound! let the unfortunate girl alone.”
“What! she has bewitched you too?” asked Prince Romanos, and with a shriek which rang in the ears of those present, Danaë swooned away.
“Oh, go out, go out and leave her with us!” cried Zoe distractedly to the men. “It has been too much—all this long strain—and this last thing, she thinks we believe it. Poor girl! she had no idea what she was doing.”
“If I may trespass on your kindness to shelter her for one night more, Princess?” said Prince Romanos smoothly, as he went out. “To-morrow I will relieve you of such an unpleasant charge.”
“Go, go!” said Zoe impatiently. Eirene had laid aside her recovered girdle for a moment, but there was a far-away look in her eyes as she brought water and restoratives and helped Zoe to lay Danaë on the floor. The moment the girl opened her eyes she left her and took up the girdle again, as though she feared being deprived of it.
“Better, Kalliopé?” asked Zoe kindly.
“Oh, lady, lady!” Danaë hid her face upon her mistress’s breast, and clung to her trembling and shivering. “Is it true? Am I a witch?”