Chapter XIII: Love--and Hate

I did not harm this Tara, though I was sorely tempted to; and after a moment we quieted her. She was crying and laughing by turns; but when we seated her on the divan she controlled herself and fell into a sullen silence. Elza, pale and frightened at her escape, faced the woman, and waved Wolfgar and me aside. Strange little Elza! Resolute, she stood there, and would brook no interference with her purpose. Wolfgar and I withdrew a pace or two and stood watching them.

Tara’s breast was heaving with her pent emotion. She sat drooping on the divan, her face buried in her hands.

Elza said gently: “Why did you do that, Tara?”

There was no answer; only the woman’s catching breath as she struggled with her sobs. Across the background of my consciousness came the thought that Tarrano or one of his guards would doubtless momentarily appear to investigate all this turmoil. And I was vaguely conscious also that from our instrument room the sounds of an unusual activity were coming. But I did not heed them. Elza was insisting:

“Why did you do that, Tara? Why should you want to harm me?”

Tara looked up. “You have stolen the man I love.”

“I?”

“Yes. Tarrano----”

She broke off, set her lips firmly together as though to repress further words; and her fine grey eyes, filled with unbidden tears, were smoldering to their depths with hate.

Impulsively Elza sank to the floor beside the woman. But Tara drew away.

Elza said: “Tarrano--he is a wonderful man, Tara. A genius--the greatest figure of these three worlds...”

My heart sank to hear her say it!

“ ... a genius, Tara. You should be proud to love him...”

“You----” The woman’s writhing fingers seemed about to reach for Elza. I took a sudden step forward, then relaxed. Elza added quickly:

“But I would not steal Tarrano from you. Don’t you realize that?”

“No!”

“But it’s true.”

“No! No! You have stolen him! With your queer Earth beauty--that colored hair of yours--those rounded limbs--you’ve bewitched him! I can see it. You can’t lie to me! I made him angry once and he admitted it.”

“No, I tell you!”

“I say yes. You’ve stolen him from me. He loves you--and he mocks and laughs at me----”

“Tara, wait. I do not love Tarrano, I tell you. I would not have him----” How my heart leaped to hear her say it so convincingly. She added:

“He loves me, perhaps--but I can’t help that. He has me prisoner here. I am forced----”