"I didn't. I thought you'd surrender, if we got the cattle away."
"You thought," said I, scornfully. "I suppose you did as you were bid."
"No; I told Constantine that they weren't to—" The boy stopped short, looked round him, and said in a questioning voice: "Where are all the rest of my people?"
"The rest of your people," said I, "have run away. You are in my hands. I can do just as I please with you."
His lips set in an obstinate curve, but he made no answer. I went on as sternly as I could: "And when I think of what I saw here yesterday—of that poor old man stabbed by your blood-thirsty crew—"
"It was an accident," he cried, sharply; the voice had lost its dreaminess, and sounded clear now.
"We'll see about that when we get Constantine and Vlacho before a judge," I retorted grimly. "Anyhow, he was foully stabbed in his own house, for doing what he had a perfect right to do."
"He had no right to sell the island," cried the boy; and he rose for a moment to his feet, with a proud air, only to sink back again into the chair and stretch out his hand for water again.
Now at this moment Denny, refreshed by meat and drink, and in the highest of spirits, bounded into the hall.