"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile.
"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for
the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I
shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time,
to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my
government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers
and several cannon."
Antinea was standing up, very pale.
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First
threats, then promises."
Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her
with a sort of grave pity.
"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally.
"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied.
"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine."
"I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm.
Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my
companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face.
He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together
with a strange mixture of force and gentleness.
King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes
of Morhange held him fascinated.
"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea.
It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was
overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply.
"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he
would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name."
So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From
the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to
him.
"Listen," she said.
How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless
for the first time!
"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I
hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your
life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...."
"I have remembered all that," said Morhange.
"A last time," she repeated.
The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely
noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of
worldliness remained.
"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking.
Morhange was not even looking at her.
"As you will," she said.
Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa
appeared.
"Leave the room!"
Morhange, his head held high, went out.