"And must thou torture him to death? Must he so surely die?"
"Aye, so run my orders. He will die—and thou too, black. Hold thou my burden, fool, whilst I undo my halberd!"
From the kneeling eunuch came a shriek and moan and incoherent jabbering. The captain cursed and stayed his uplifted arm.
"It is too dark to strike," he growled. "Wait till the moon is from behind that cloud. Ugh! It is black here, pitchy black." A full, heavy minute elapsed, disturbed by the scuffle of the negro's feet as he ran and cowered in the furthest corner, and the soft creaking of the iron door, and a sudden suck and soughing of the night air. Then the moon slipped slyly from its frayed woolly covers, and relit the donjon keep. "Holy God and Father," and the halberd clanked noisily to the floor. In the half open doorway stood the king's favorite, the Lady Suelva. Against the frosted green background of the moonlit courtyard her shimmering robe, her white face and throat, and her long hair of flaming copper stood out gloriously. She did not move, but stayed peering through the unaccustomed gloom, as if to recognize the dark figures before her. The eunuch flung himself at her feet, and squirmed and grovelled. "Save me, lady save me!" But she thrust him from her with a sharp push of her foot.
The captain turned to the jester. "Take down thy burden," he whispered. "Down to the torture room with him."
But the lady heard and came forward. "No," she said imperiously, "lay him down upon the floor, and let me see what has been done with him."
The captain grumbled and swore under his heavy mustache. "Take him away, fool. Do as I bid!"
But the lady stepped between. "Stop! Let me see him." Her voice rose high and shaking; she was fast losing her stately calmness.
The captain sneered. "See him! And why? Have you not seen enough of him this night?"
"No, no! he was but singing to me!"