passed out of her life. She touched the
sheath to her lips and, smiling, laid it away.

And the days went by and Dwaymenau came no more before her, and her days
were fulfilled with peace. And now again the Queen ruled in the palace
wisely and like a Queen, and this Dwaymenau did not dispute, but what
her thoughts were no man could tell.

Then came the end.

One night the city awakened to a wild alarm. A terrible fleet of
war-boats came sweeping along the river thick as locusts--the war fleet
of the Lord of Prome. Battle shouts broke the peace of the night
to horror; axes battered on the outer doors; the roofs of the outer
buildings were all aflame. It was no wonderful incident, but a common
one enough of those turbulent days--reprisal by a powerful ruler with
raids and hates to avenge on the Lord of the Golden Palace. It was
indeed a right to be gainsaid only by the strong arm, and the strong arm
was absent; as for the men of Pagan, if the guard failed and the women's
courage sank, they would return to blackened walls, empty chambers and
desolation.

At Pagan the guard was small, indeed, for the King's greed of plunder
had taken almost every able man with him. Still, those who were left
did what they could, and the women, alert and brave, with but few
exceptions, gathered the children and handed such weapons as they could
muster to the men, and themselves, taking knives and daggers, helped to
defend the inner rooms.

In the farthest, the Queen, having given her commands and encouraged all
with brave words, like a wise, prudent princess, sat with her son beside
her. Her duty was now to him. Loved or unloved, he was still the heir,
the root of the House tree. If all failed, she must make ransom
and terms for him, and, if they died, it must be together. He, with
sparkling eyes, gay in the danger, stood by her. Thus Dwaymenau found
them.

She entered quietly and without any display of emotion and stood before
the high seat.

"Great Queen"--she used that title for the first time--"the leader is
Meng Kyinyo of Prome. There is no mercy. The end is near. Our men fall
fast, the women are fleeing. I have come to say this thing: Save the
Prince."

"And how?" asked the Queen, still seated. "I have no power."

"I have sent to Maung Tin, abbot of the Golden Monastery, and he has
said this thing. In the Kyoung across the river he can hide one child
among the novices. Cut his hair swiftly and put upon him this yellow
robe