"The boy from Avalcomb! Certainly these Danes are as hard to kill as cats! I
would have sworn to it that I had separated his life from his body not
eight-and-forty hours ago." A gleam of eagerness came into his face, and he
bent over her again. "You shall serve my purpose by your obstinacy," he said
under his breath. "You shall tell me where your sister is. You know, for you
escaped together. When I was restored to my senses, I found you both gone.
Tell me where she lies hidden, and it may he that I will grant to you a longer
life."
Her stiff lips could not have spoken an answer had her paralyzed brain been
able to frame one. She could only gaze back at him in helpless waiting. A
second time he was bending toward her, when something stopped him midway so
that he straightened and drew back with a bow. It came to her suddenly that
they were all bowing, and that the hubbub had died in mid-air. Through the
hush, a quiet voice spoke.
"You are eager in rising, my lords," it said. From the shelter, half cave,
half bower, which had been contrived amid the bushes, a warrior of mighty
frame had emerged and stood examining the scene. Though with soldierly
hardiness he had taken his rest in his war-harness, he was unhelmed, and the
light that revealed the protruding chin had no need to pick out the jewelled
diadem to mark him as Edmund Ironside.
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