“A fine hostage for us, then!” He swooped from the saddle with extended arm, in the evident intention of seizing her and carrying her off. But Danaë had been watching for just such a movement, with the intuition which had descended to her from many generations born and bred in the midst of alarms. She swerved swiftly and suddenly, and he overbalanced himself and came to the ground, to the accompaniment of a chorus of smothered laughter. The sound thrilled Danaë. These men were still to be held for her brother, if she could seize the moment. Before the Colonel could pick himself up, her foot was in his stirrup, and in some miraculous way she scrambled into the saddle.
“Retire to your quarters, sir, and consider yourself under arrest!” she gasped to her discomfited antagonist.
“And to whom am I to have the honour of surrendering my sword, lady?” he asked, with a wink to a colleague.
“To me, sir. The belt as well, if you please. Be good enough to hold my horse,” to a young officer who chanced to be near her, and then and there she buckled on her foe’s sword, with the utmost deliberation. The operation finished to her satisfaction, she looked round at the ring of curious faces. “Gentlemen, your late Colonel was a traitor. I will now lead you myself.”
“Long live the lady colonel!” cried the youth who had held her horse, and who evidently found the new development interesting, and the men took up the cry with hearty amusement. The late Colonel, as was only to be expected, was less pleased.
“Oblige me by getting off my horse, lady. This farce has lasted long enough.” Danaë’s hand stole out behind her towards the helpful youth, and he grasped her meaning instinctively. The Colonel, with his hand outstretched to drag her from the saddle, recoiled from the revolver that almost touched his forehead.
“I should be sorry to end the farce for you on the spot, sir,” said his supplanter; “but if I am forced—— Dismount one of your men, and place the late Colonel under guard,” she said to her helper.
“If any man dares to lay a finger on me——!” blustered the Colonel.
“Place the late Colonel under guard,” repeated Danaë inexorably, and during the undignified rough-and-tumble struggle that ensued she thought hard, sitting motionless on her horse, like Bellona presiding over a scene of carnage. When the fight was over, and her predecessor, in a very damaged condition, was safely secured, she advanced a step.
“Are all here faithful to Prince Romanos and their military oath?” she asked loudly.