A NIGHT OF MYSTERIES.
Mai Chandra, Smâyâtee's new friend, redoubled her tenderness and sisterly love for the poor, forlorn girl when she found that she was asleep. As midnight approached, she gently placed her head on a cushion, and then went home to her supper, deeply in love with the beautiful stranger.
The Duke Chow P'haya Mândtree's pavilion was thronged, as usual, with courtiers and nobles. All manner of attractions and diversions were there. The duke himself, partly intoxicated, sat amidst them, boasting of the rare purchase he had made that day: "She is so beautiful," said he to one of his boon companions, "that she inspires me as this glass of English brandy does." And he filled and refilled the jewelled goblet out of which he drank.
This man, in his whole person, was a type of many who may be seen any day in Siam,—a human being sunk in the lowest depths of sensualism and savage barbarity. From his hair, which was a dull gray, his wrinkled brow, his livid lips and watery eyes, there breathed forth an atmosphere which would have repelled even the mother who bore him.
At one time it was his intention to have Smâyâtee brought into the pavilion, that his friends might judge of her beauty; but, with his faculties already greatly enfeebled by the immoderate use of English brandy, he forgot his purpose.
At length the distant sounds of trumpets, conch-shells, and the ringing of multitudinous pagoda-bells proclaimed the last hour of day,—i.e. midnight. The nobles, courtiers, and friends retired and some elderly female attendants appeared; to them the duke gave orders to have the new slave-girl conducted to the upper story of his summer tower.
The day had been hot and sultry; no clouds were to be seen, except low on the eastern horizon, where they stretched in lengthened ridges of gold and purple, like the border between earth and sky.