A sound of much confusion rose within the Palace behind them. Every now and then the King’s voice could be distinctly heard above the turmoil. When he spoke in authority his voice sounded like the angry roar of a great fire. Suddenly a streak of light fell across the path in front of them, as someone opened a heavy door giving access to the Garden from another quarter of the Palace than that through which Ruth had entered. The Bronze King himself, alone and unattended, stepped out into the gravel path. He carried a large torch that flamed above his head. The lurid light fell upon his hard bronze face, showing it distorted and drawn with rage. “She shall never escape me,” he muttered to himself, but loudly enough for both David and Ruth to hear distinctly the words, “I will kill her first.” What followed happened far more quickly than it takes to tell it. As he spoke he lifted the torch high and rushed furiously forward. Before there was a chance to retreat, he came face to face with Ruth! The King was so thoroughly surprised at this unexpected meeting that he failed to notice David. The full glare of the burning torch fell blindingly upon Ruth’s pale and frightened face. “So!” cried the King, “here you are, are you? I have found you myself, have I? Well, come with me.” He caught Ruth’s wrist in his great rough burning hand. They could both feel his hot breath as he spoke, and it seemed to fill the air with fumes like those of sulphur. “Take your hands off her!” commanded David--and his voice was that of a man. The Bronze King turned upon him in a fury of astonishment. “What!” he cried. “Who are you, to be commanding the King within his own Palace? The girl is mine; to-morrow she is to be my bride. She shall do as I command her or die instantly.” “_You_ shall do as _I_ command you or die instantly,” said David. “Take your hand from her wrist and let her go free, or you shall repent of your folly.” Never in all his royal existence had the Bronze King been addressed so. He grew so angry that his face looked more coppery than ever in the flickering light of the torch; Ruth thought she had never looked upon any one more terrible in all her life. A sound came from him that seemed to start somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. It was like the roar of a raging forest fire. He turned the torch so that its light fell on David’s face. And when he saw the boy standing there before him, he laughed in scorn and turned, dragging Ruth toward the doorway. David drew his hunting-knife and rushed upon the King with such fury that the torch fell to the ground, setting fire to the grass and bushes as it rolled over and over; for the force with which it had been hurled from his hand when David made his onset was great enough to send it some distance.