"Who says that I will be killed? Tell me--who
gave you this warning for me?"
"I--I--tell you so!" stammered the young girl. "I--I--heard the
king--they will kill you--" Her lips trembled. Nathaniel saw that her
eyes were already red from crying. "You will go?" she pleaded.
Nathaniel had taken her hand and now he held it tightly in his own. His
head was thrown back, his eyes were upon the door across the room. When
he looked again into the girlish face there was flashing joyous defiance
in his eyes, and in his voice there was confession of the truth that had
suddenly come to overwhelm whatever law of self preservation he might
have held unto himself.
"No, my dear, I am not going back to my ship," he spoke softly. "Not
unless she who is in that room comes out and bids me go herself!"
CHAPTER IV
THE WHIPPING
Scarce had the words fallen from his lips when there sounded a slow,
heavy step on the stair outside. The young girl snatched her hand free
and caught Nathaniel by the wrist.
"It is the king!" she whispered excitedly. "It is the king! Quick--you
still have time! You must go--you must go--"
She strove to pull him across the room.
"There--through that door!" she urged.
The slowly ascending steps were half way up the stairs. Nathaniel
hesitated. He knew that a moment before there had passed through that
door one who carried with her the odor of lilac and his heart leaped to
its own conclusion who that person was. He had heard the rustle of the
girl's skirt.
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