"Base, craven-hearted bully," Graham shouted, unable to control his anger longer--"coward, who would seek to rob a woman of all that is dearer to her than life--you lie! Volinè is as pure and as free from sin as a babe unborn; her soul is whiter than the snows on your mountains' highest points; and the day shall yet come when I--yes, _I_--will make you proclaim her innocence as loudly as you now have cried her shame!"
"By God! Mr. Graham, and if ye want any help, Sandy Cam'bell will be there," shouted Sandy, carried away in his excitement at the prospect of a fight, yet understanding little of what was being said.
Graham was prevented by a dozen guards from saying more; but we noticed that not a man amongst them treated him roughly. Did the ring he wore possess the magic power of which we had been told?
The King was now filled with rage. Anger so hot and violent filled his heart, that we could see he controlled it with the greatest effort; and the multitude of spectators were worked up into a state of frenzy by what had just been said. No language can express our amazement as we heard the damning words. Graham alone could understand them, and our hearts were filled with despair.
"Say now, O King, if these men of Ramos do not justly perish?" continued the Prince, with a voice in which triumph and revenge were mingled. "Shall they go free who spill innocent blood; yea, sully a woman of thy peerless race, and she thy daughter?"
Stung to madness by this bitter taunt, the King waved his hand towards the speaker, and in a stern and angry voice cried out:----
"Peace, Peace, Perodii. Thou thyself hath fanned our wrath in proclaiming thus publicly our shame; and I bid thee retire at once to my privy chamber, whither I will hold consultation with thee. Heed well thy words, Perodii, for strongest proof of what thou sayest will be required of thee." Then, addressing the officers and ministers of State, the King continued:
"Let these four men of Ramos be taken back and guarded well. Each one of them shall die. Their blood shall wash away our dishonour. Three days hence, at setting of the sun, let them meet their doom without prayer or priest, and be consumed with their handiwork within the fiery depths of Melag, hurled therein from the crag Remagaloth. Lead them hence, and let me see them no more; for they have covered me with humiliation before my people, and bowed mine aged head in naked shame!"