“Ah, yes, I do,” said my sister, and he threw his arm about her and clasped her to his breast.
“Come! I will save you!” he cried. “There is time, if we hurry. Will you come with me now?”
My sister drew back a little, still struggling within herself; and while she hesitated, a commotion arose at the gate, and the young man cried out, in a voice full of despair:
“It is too late, too late!”
Tush and His Sister are Seized by the Angry Crowd
At the gate a throng of people were pressing in with angry shouts. They made toward us, dancing and rubbing their hands. They surrounded us; they crowded upon us to suffocation; the young man and myself tried in vain to shield my sister; angry hands were laid upon her and upon myself, and we were hustled away toward the gate.
“Give us back our leaves! Kill them both! To the square!” shouted the mob; and thrusting the King’s brother aside they pulled and pushed us to the public square, and halted us beneath the vat which contained all my wealth.
A sudden outcry, followed by silence, drew my attention upward. There above us, on the rim of the vat, stood the King’s Fool. He held a lighted torch aloft in his hand.
“Madmen!” he cried. “I am ready to cure you! All alone! Speak! Shall I destroy the leaves?”
“No, no!” shouted the crowd. “Stop him! Stop him!”