ting. She would not flee; she would see it and rejoice. And as
she stood in gladness--these broken thoughts rushing through her like
flashes of lightning--Mindon saw her by the pillar and, screaming in
anguish for the first time, fled to her for refuge.

She raised her knife to meet the staring eyes, the chalk white face, and
drive him back on the murderer. If the man failed, she would not! And
even as she did this a strange thing befell. Something stronger than
hate swept her away like a leaf on the river; something primeval that
lives in the lonely pangs of childbirth, that hides in the womb and
breasts of the mother. It was stronger than she. It was not the hated
Mindoin--she saw him no more. Suddenly it was the eternal Child, lifting
dying, appealing eyes to the Woman, as he clung to her knees. She did
not think this--she felt it, and it dominated her utterly. The Woman
answered. As if it had been her own flesh and blood, she swept the
panting body behind her and faced the man with uplifted dagger and knew
her victory assured, whether in life or death. On came the horrible
rush, the flaming eyes, and, if it was chance that set the dagger
against his throat, it was cool strength that drove it home and never
wavered until the blood welling from the throat quenched the flame in
the wild eyes, and she stood triumphing like a war-goddess, with the
man at her feet. Then, strong and flushed, Maya the Queen gathered the
half-dead boy in her arms, and, both drenched with blood, they moved
slowly down the hall and outside met the hurrying crowd, with Dwaymenau,
whom the scream had brought to find her son.

"You have killed him! She has killed him!" Scarcely could the Rajput
woman speak. She was kneeling beside him--he hideous with blood. "She
hated him always. She has murdered him. Seize her!"

"Woman, what matter your hates and mine?" the Queen said slowly. "The
boy is stark with fear. Carry him in and send for old Meh Shway Gon.
Woman, be silent!"

When a Queen commands, men and women obey, and a Queen commanded then.
A huddled group lifted the child and carried him away, Dwaymenau with
them, still uttering wild threats, and the Queen was left alone.

She could not realize what she had done and left undone. She could not
understand it. She had hated, sickened with loathing, as it seemed for
ages, and now, in a moment it had blown away like a whirlwind that is
gone. Hate was washed out of her soul and had left it cool an