“We will find out.”
“Does Lentala know?”
“Not positively, perhaps; but we all love her, and she has many ways of learning, since she is not hedged about and kept in the dark as your Majesty can be.” The king was brightening; a faint eagerness crept into his face.
“Where did you learn to talk in that way?”
“I don’t understand your Majesty.”
“That inflexion. It isn’t pure Senatra.”
“It is my misfortune, Sire. A long time ago a white man, an American, escaped from the natives with the aid of a Senatra girl. She went with him into the lonely mountains back of the village Sumanali. There my brother,” indicating Christopher, “and I were born. We speak our father’s language as well as our mother’s.”
“English?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“I meant something else, also, in your speech,—a quickness, a nimbleness.”