ne to wonder involuntarily
what its aspect would be if anything occurred to break the calm.
It reminded me of the deep sea, that even on the bluest days
never loses its visible stamp of power, and in its murmuring
sleep is yet instinct with the spirit of the storm. Her figure,
like her sister's, was almost perfect in its curves and outlines,
but a trifle more rounded, and her dress was absolutely the same.

As this lovely pair swept onwards to their respective thrones,
amid the deep attentive silence of the Court, I was bound to
confess to myself that they did indeed fulfil my idea of royalty.
Royal they were in every way -- in form, in grace, and queenly
dignity, and in the barbaric splendour of their attendant pomp.
But methought that they needed no guards or gold to proclaim
their power and bind the loyalty of wayward men. A glance from
those bright eyes or a smile from those sweet lips, and while
the red blood runs in the veins of youth women such as these
will never lack subjects ready to do their biddings to the death.

But after all they were women first and queens afterwards, and
therefore not devoid of curiosity. As they passed to their seats
I saw both of them glance swiftly in our direction. I saw, too,
that their eyes passed by me, seeing nothing to charm them in
the person of an insignificant and grizzled old man. Then they
looked with evident astonishment on the grim form of old Umslopogaas,
who raised his axe in salutation. Attracted next by the splendour
of Good's apparel, for a second their glance rested on him like
a humming moth upon a flower, then off it darted to where Sir
Henry Curtis stood, the sunlight from a window playing upon his
yellow hair and peaked beard, and marking the outlines of his
massive frame against the twilight of the somewhat gloomy hall.
He raised his eyes, and they met the fair Nyleptha's full, and
thus for the first time the goodliest man and woman that it has
ever been my lot to see looked one upon another. And why it
was I know not, but I saw the swift blood run up Nyleptha's skin
as the pink lights run up the morning sky. Red grew her fair
bosom and shapely arm, red the swanlike neck; the rounded cheeks
blushed red as the petals of a rose, and then the crimson flood
sank back to whence it came and left her pale and trembling.

I glanced at Sir Henry. He, too, had coloured up to the eyes.

'Oh, my word!' thought I to myself, 'the ladies have come on
the stage