You will be safe there." Dolores sprang to her feet before the dwarf could prevent her.
"To my father?
oh, no, no, no! Never, as long as I live! I will go anywhere, but not to him! Take your hands from me--do not touch me! I am not strong, but I shall kill you if you try to take me to my father!" Her small hands grasped the dwarfs wrists and wrung them with desperate energy, and she tried to push him away, so that she might pass him.

But he resisted her quietly, planting himself in a position of resistance on his short bowed legs, and opposing the whole strength of his great arms to her girlish violence.

Her hands relaxed suddenly in despair.
"Not to my father!" she pleaded, in a broken voice.

"Oh, please, please--not to my father!" The jester did not fully understand, but he yielded, for he could not carry her to Mendoza's apartments by force.
"But what can I do to put you in a place of safety ?" he asked, in growing distress.

"You cannot stay here." While he was speaking a light figure glided out from the shadows, with outstretched hands, and a low voice called Dolores' name, trembling with terror and emotion.