All,
natives as well as ourselves, stood as motionless as stone. Her face was
pale and her eyes were wonderful to look upon. With a gasp of
thankfulness, I noticed that the blood on her breast was but a narrow
streak Juba, staring at her, slowly withdrew his foot from his prostrate
opponent, and Ingra first sat up, and then got upon his feet. Ala, who
had been seated, rose at the same moment, and looked Ingra straight in
the face. I saw Edmund glancing from one to the other, and I knew he was
trying to follow the communication that was taking place between them.
The general sense of it I could follow, myself. Ingra, metaphorically,
stormed and Ala commanded. That she was defending us was plain, and it
was but natural that my admiration for this wonderful woman should rise
to the highest pitch. I thanked God, in my heart, that her wound could be
no more than a scratch--and yet it was a wound, inflicted upon the person
of her who, there could be no doubt, was the ruler of a powerful empire.
It was less majesty, or worse, and she, herself, might not be able to
protect us against its consequences.
At last, it became evident that a decision had been made.
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