But her question brought no direct response. Instead, Sajipona turned to the old Indian who, during this brief colloquy, had shown signs of uneasiness. She now placed her fingers to her lips and pointed with her other hand to the apartment in the palace whence Sajipona had just made her appearance.
“Yes,” repeated the queen, “we shall see.”
The three women turned to the open lattice window at the other end of the portico. Objects in the room beyond were at first indistinct, but as the eye became accustomed to the darkness the whole interior took on more definite outlines. Una could see that the apartment was furnished in barbaric luxury. Golden shields gleamed on the walls; hangings, rich in color and material, were draped from the ceiling; massive cabinets, ornately carved and encrusted with gold, stood in distant alcoves of the room. But all these curious evidences of a bygone art were barely noted, the attention being drawn to the one living occupant within. Lying on a sort of divan, at some distance from the window, was the figure, apparently, of a man. He was moving restlessly, as if awaking from sleep. While Una looked, he rose and stood irresolutely in the center of the room, one arm flung across his face to shield his eyes from the light. Then, slowly walking to the window, as if looking for some one, his arm dropped to his side and, leaning across the lattice, he called:
“Sajipona!”
It was David.
[XVIII]
SUBTERRANEAN PHOTOGRAPHY
At first he did not see Una. His glance wandered dreamily off in the distance and then, recalled, as if by the sudden disappearance of some idle fancy, fixed itself upon Sajipona. A smile of satisfaction passed over his features as he came out to meet her.
“Why did you stop singing?” he asked, in a voice that was almost inaudible. “I missed you.”