Oh, the horrible sound of her fall! At my feet she fell, and lay still.

The princess sat down with the smile of a demoness.
I dropped on my knees beside Lona, raised her from the stones, and pressed her to my bosom.

With indignant hate I glanced at the princess; she answered me with her sweetest smile.

I would have sprung upon her, taken her by the throat, and strangled her, but love of the child was stronger than hate of the mother, and I clasped closer my precious burden.

Her arms hung helpless; her blood trickled over my hands, and fell on the floor with soft, slow little plashes.
The horses scented it--mine first, then the small ones.