“You will spare this lady your insults,” I told him in a low voice. “At least so far as you can. Your presence itself is an insult.”
“Egad, and that’s where the wind sits, eh? Well, well, ’tis the manner of the world. When the cat’s away!”
A flame of fire ran through me. I took a step toward him, hand on sword hilt. With a sweep of his jewelled hand he waved me back.
“Fie, fie, Kenn! In a lady’s presence?”
Volney smiled at the girl in mock gallantry and my eyes followed his. I never saw a greater change. She was transformed. Her lithe young figure stood out tall and strong, every line of weariness gone. Hate, loathing, scorn, one might read plainly there, but no trace of fear or despair. She might have been a lioness defending her young. Her splendour of dark auburn hair, escaped and fallen free to her waist, fascinated me with the luxuriance of its disorder. Volney’s lazy admiration quickened to a deeper interest. For an instant his breath came faster. His face lighted with the joy of the huntsman after worthy game. But almost immediately he recovered his aplomb. Turning to me, he asked with his odd light smile,
“Staying long, may I ask?”
My passion was gone. I was possessed by a slow fire as steady and as enduring as a burning peat.
“I have not quite made up my mind how long to stay,” I answered coldly. “When I leave the lady goes with me, but I haven’t decided yet what to do with you.”
He began to laugh. “You grow amusing. ’Slife, you are not all country boor after all! May it please you, what are the alternatives regarding my humble self?” he drawled, leaning back with an elbow on the pillow.
“Well, I might kill you.”