I made no immediate reply, and Mr. Sturritt showed languid confusion.
“I—that is——” he began, “she—she is——”
“I think,” I interposed, “she is a cousin to that very delightful little auburn-haired creature, who sits all day at the feet of our Admiral, listening to “How Doth the Little Busy Bee” and “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
“Nick,” said Gale, “if anything should happen that we ever did get out of this snap, and back to—to people—the yacht, and Biff, and Johnnie, I mean—I suppose it would be just as well not to mention some of the things that happen down here. They wouldn’t quite understand the conditions, you see—the—the atmosphere, as the artists say—the poetry of it, you know. You wouldn’t want to say anything, yourself——”
He was interrupted at this point by the arrival on our terrace of the singing children. I had no opportunity to reply, but I did not at once join very heartily in the ceremonies.
The latter were very simple, and consisted of little more than a continuance of the marching and singing, with a pause at short intervals to shout a great pæan to their divinity. Then there ensued a wonderfully graceful dance, and after this a marvellous floral decoration of the entire temple, within and without. In this the Princess took but a brief initiatory part, and presently, when the upper terrace was finished, most of her followers descended to the work below, leaving with her only her ladies-in-waiting, a few gentlemen of the court, and ourselves.
We reclined among the flowers, and for a time there was a silence, broken only by the distant singing voices of those still busy below. It seemed a sort of benediction after the offering, and then for some reason there came upon me a feeling like that when at the opera the curtain descends and the chorus dies into the distance; the feeling that something is over and completed—that something new and different is about to begin.
XXXIII.
THE TOUCH OF LIFE.
The music below grew fainter and died. Those with us upon the terrace remained silent, awaiting the pleasure of the Princess. When she spoke at last it was to Ferratoni, and then I noticed for the first time that he had brought, or caused to be brought, a little case which I recognized as one of his telephones. We had known that for the entertainment of the Princess he had been experimenting with his materials, and we realized that he was about to demonstrate from the elevation of the temple the practicability of his invention. Remembering what we had been told of the national prejudice against mechanical progress, I momentarily doubted the wisdom of such an exhibition, but reflected that with the approval of the Princess the result could hardly be otherwise than pleasant. Those who remained with us seemed also to encourage the experiment, and showed some interest as to the outcome.
They were those of the inner household. Among them were the three to whom Chauncey Gale, Mr. Sturritt and myself had paid some slight social attention (the merest courtesies, indeed, as courtesies go in that land) since our arrival in the Lilied Hills.