is voice, and Sir
Henry whistled and looked silly. As for the poor girls, they
were utterly dumbfounded.

And Nyleptha! she drew herself up till her frame seemed to tower
even above that of the tall guards, and her face went first red,
and then pale as death.

'Guards,' she said in a quiet choked voice, and pointing at the fair
but unconscious disciple of Wackford Squeers, 'slay me that woman.'

The men hesitated, as well they might.

'Will ye do my bidding,' she said again in the same voice,
'or will ye not?'

Then they advanced upon the girl with uplifted spears.
By this time Sir Henry had recovered himself, and saw that
the comedy was likely to turn into a tragedy.

'Stand back,' he said in a voice of thunder, at the same time
getting in front of the terrified girl. 'Shame on thee,
Nyleptha -- shame! Thou shalt not kill her.'

'Doubtless thou hast good reason to try to protect her.
Thou couldst hardly do less in honour,' answered the
infuriated Queen; 'but she shall die -- she shall die,'
and she stamped her little foot.

'It is well,' he answered; 'then will I die with her. I am thy
servant, oh Queen; do with me even as thou wilt.' And he bowed
towards her, and fixed his clear eyes contemptuously on her face.

'I could wish to slay thee too,' she answered; 'for thou dost
make a mock of me;' and then feeling that she was mastered, and
I suppose not knowing what else to do, she burst into such a
storm of tears and looked so royally lovely in her passionate
distress, that, old as I am, I must say I envied Curtis his task
of supporting her. It was rather odd to see him holding her
in his arms considering what had just passed -- a thought that
seemed to occur to herself, for presently she wrenched herself
free and went, leaving us all much disturbed.

Presently, however, one of the guards returned with a message
to the girls that they were, on pain of death, to leave the city
and return to their homes in the country, and that no further
harm would come to them; and accordingly they went, one of them
remarking philosophically that it could not be helped, and that
it was a satisfaction to know that they had taught us a little
serviceable Zu-Vendi. Mine was an exceedingly nice girl, and,
overlooking the cockroach, I made her a present of my favourite
lucky sixpence with a hole in it when she went away. After that
our former masters resumed their course of instruction, needless
to say to my great reli