A sigh of
approval and excitement ran through the group.
"Gods! how they will scatter!" the young lord tittered nervously.
"Nay, now, there must be no such thing," the robust noble said,
addressing them all. "Mind you, we but come as guests. It shall be
left to the ladies to say how we shall abide with them. Show me a
light."
The instant brilliance that followed proved that a hood had been lifted
from a lamp. One of the men held a cloak between it and the group on
Senci's boat. Kenkenes raised himself. The lamp discovered to his
angry eyes the face of Har-hat.
"Now, hold this hook for me while I get aboard," the fan-bearer
chuckled.
With a single step the young sculptor crossed to the side of the barge
and wrenched the hook from the hands of the man that held it. For a
moment he poised it above him, struggling with a mighty desire to bring
it down on the head of the startled fan-bearer. The youthful lord
dropped from his point of vantage and half of the group retreated
precipitately. Har-hat drew back slowly and raised himself, as
Kenkenes lowered the weapon. For a space the two regarded each other
savagely. The contemplation endured only the smallest part of a
moment, but it was eloquent of the bitterest mutual antagonism.
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