always on the ragged edge of apprehension; she could
not even turn toward him but he winced.

In the midst of the talk I let drop a complimentary
word about King Arthur, forgetting for the moment
how this woman hated her brother. That one little
compliment was enough. She clouded up like
storm; she called for her guards, and said:

"Hale me these varlets to the dungeons."

That struck cold on my ears, for her dungeons had
a reputation. Nothing occurred to me to say -- or
do. But not so with Sandy. As the guard laid a
hand upon me, she piped up with the tranquilest con-