Her first
thought Was a vague wonder that after it she could breathe and move as if she
were still alive. Her next, a piteous desire to escape from him while she had
this strength, before the end should really come. Clutching the broken chain,
she drew herself up bravely, her words coming in uneven breathfuls. "I want
not that recompense, lord. I want--nothing you have to give. Little shall you
think of the debt,--or think that in helping you, I repaid you for your
hospitality, your--"
Her voice broke as the memory of that time passed over her like bitter waters,
and she was obliged to stand silent before him, steadying her lip with her
teeth, until the waters had fallen. She had a faint consciousness that he was
speaking to her, but she did not understand what he said, she did not care.
Her only wish was for words that should send him away so that she might be
free to sink down beside the old well and press her burning face against its
smooth coldness and finish dying there.
"It was the King who sent for you, that he might know whether I had spoken the
truth concerning my disguise--" she said when at last her voice returned.
"Now, by coming, you have helped me against his anger,--let that settle all
debt between us. I thank you much and--and I bid you farewell." Again
Elfgiva's schooling came to her mind and she swayed before him in a courtesy.
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