I looked at him now without dissembling my scorn.

Even in such an hour as this the habit of hectoring cruelty remained him.
"What shall it avail me to think ?" I asked him in a voice that was as cold and steady as his was hot and quavering.

"Were you a bird I might suggest flight across the sea to you.

But you are a man, a very human, a very mortal man, although your father made you Lord of Pesaro." Even as I was speaking, the thunder of the besiegers reached our ears--such a dull roar it was as that of a stormy sea in winter time.
Maddened by his terror he stood over me now, his eyes flashing wildly in his white face.
"Another word in such a tone," he rasped, his fingers on his dagger, "and I'll make an end of you.

I need your help, animal!" I shook my head, my glance meeting his without fear.