Artemisia raised her eyes, and, as they lit on Pratinas, there was in them a gleam of wonder, then of fear, and she shrank back in dread, so that Cornelia threw her arm about her to comfort her.
"A! A!" and the girl began to cry. "Has he found me? Will he take me? Pity! mercy! Pratinas!"
But no one had paid her any more attention. It was Cæsar who had sprung from his seat.
"Wretch!" and his terrible eyes burned into Pratinas's guilty breast, so that he writhed, and held down his head, and began to mutter words inaudible. "Can you tell the truth to save yourself the most horrible tortures human wit can devise?"
But Pratinas had nothing to say.
Again Demetrius leaped upon him. The pirate was a frantic animal. His fingers moved as though they were claws to pluck the truth from the offender's heart. He hissed his question between teeth that ground together in frenzy.
"How did you get her? Where from? When?"
Pratinas choked for utterance.
"Artemisia! Daphne! Yours! I lost her! Ran away at Rome!"
The words shook out of him like water from a well-filled flask. Demetrius relaxed his hold. A whole flood of conflicting emotions was displayed upon his manly face. He turned to Artemisia.