She took her own time for decision, indifferently ignoring the howls of rage, her thin lips curling in contemptuous smile, her glance yet upon the startled Chevalier. Laying her hand upon his sleeve, she said in French: "You hear the wolves howl, Monsieur? They are mad for French blood."
He shrugged his shoulders, staring into her expressionless face, then down upon the surging mob below.
"Saint Giles! give them sufficient of something else," he replied, striving to pretend indifference, yet with a falter in his voice. "You pledged us safety if we would accompany you here."
"I pledged you safety, Monsieur," she corrected haughtily. "I gave no word of promise as to others. Yet circumstances have changed. I supposed then we had enough of victims to appease even such blood-lust as yelps yonder."
"You mean the preacher and Benteen?"
"Ay; they would suffice, with plenty of slaves for good measure. But now, only two remain from which to choose. Sacre! there are times when those dogs break away even from my control, and mock me. I know not now whether one alone will glut their desire, yet I am of a mind to try the experiment before the wolves drag me to hell also. Heard you ever such yelping of wild beasts?"
"You would sacrifice me?" his face whitening from horror. "You would give me to the knife and fire? Mon Dieu! is this the end of all your vows?"
She smiled, a cold, cruel smile, her eyes burning.
"I did not say you," tauntingly. "There is another here."
He drew away from her grasp, lips ashen, eyes unbelieving.
"Eloise! Mon Dieu! not Eloise?"
"And if not Eloise, what then, Monsieur?" The low voice hardened, becoming oddly metallic. "The wolves cry for blood--French blood. Is it your wish to die together? Pardi! if it be between you two, am I to have no choice which one I deliver? Why should you shrink back like a baby at first sight of blood? I thought you a soldier, a man. Did you not tell me you loved her no longer? did you not swear it with your lips to mine?"
He made no response, staring at her with eyes full of unbelief, the hideous uproar clanging about them in ceaseless volume. Naladi's face flushed with rising anger.
"Yet you do! Mon Dieu, you do!" she panted, the tiger within breaking loose. "Your words were a lie! Here, look at me," extending her arms, the white flesh of her bosom clearly revealed in the parting of her drapery. "Am I such as she? will I shrink like a coward, mumbling prayer and fingering rosary? Am I afraid to work my will? Am I not worth being loved? Am I the kind you think to play with? God's mercy! I am minded to throw you both to the beasts. No, no, not that; you dare not front me! I make my own choice of who shall die and who live." She laughed mockingly. "Bah! I know your sort, Monsieur--'tis as the wind blows; you love to-day, and forget to-morrow. Yet I keep you for a plaything--I have no use for her. I care no longer how the wolves tear her dainty limbs. Before this I have tasted vengeance and found it sweet."