A sudden, astounded cry, "The lady!" rang from three pairs of lips; the lady herself dropped her head on the table, and fenced her face round about with her protecting arms.
"You see," said I, "this lad is the Lady Euphrosyne."
For who else could it be that would give orders to Constantine Stefanopoulos, and ask where "my people" were? Who else, I also asked myself, save the daughter of the noble house, would boast the air, the hands, the face, that graced our young prisoner? In all certainty it was Lady Euphrosyne.
CHAPTER V.
THE COTTAGE ON THE HILL.
The effect of my remark was curious. Denny turned scarlet, and flung his whip down on the table; the others stood for a moment motionless, then turned tail and slunk back to the kitchen. Euphrosyne's face remained invisible. However, I felt quite at my ease. I had a triumphant conviction of the importance of my capture, and a determination that no misplaced chivalry should rob me of it. Politeness is, no doubt, a duty, but only a relative duty; and, in plain English, men's lives were at stake here. Therefore I did not make my best bow, fling open the door, and tell the lady that she was free to go whither she would; but I said to her in a dry, severe voice:
"You had better go, madam, to that room you usually occupy here, while we consider what to do with you. You know where the room is; I don't."
She raised her head, and said in tones that sounded almost eager:
"My own room? May I go there?"
"Certainly," said I. "I shall accompany you as far as the door; and when you've gone in, I shall lock the door."