That she was marvellously beautiful by the standards of any land or any time grew more apparent to the lord of the jungle as she came nearer to him, yet her presence exhaled a subtle essence that left him wondering if her beauty were the reflection of a nature all good or all evil, for her mien and bearing suggested that there could be no compromise—Nemone, the Queen, was all one or all the other.
She kept her eyes upon him as she crossed the room slowly, and Tarzan did not drop his own from hers. There was neither boldness nor rudeness in his gaze, perhaps there was not even interest—it was the non-committal, cautious appraisal of the wild beast that watches a creature which it neither fears nor desires.
The quizzical frown still furrowed Nemone's smooth brow as she reached the end of the table where the nobles kneeled. It was not an angry frown, and there might have been in it much of interest and something of amusement, for unusual things interested and amused Nemone, so rare were they in the monotony of her life; and it was certainly unusual to see one who did not accord her the homage due a queen.
As she halted she turned her eyes upon the kneeling nobles. "Arise!" she commanded, and in that single word the vibrant qualities of her rich, deep voice sent a strange thrill through the ape-man. "Who is this that does not kneel to Nemone?" she demanded, her gaze now returned to the bronzed figure standing impassively before her.
As Tarzan had been standing behind the nobles as they had turned to face Nemone when they kneeled, only two of his guards had been aware of his dereliction; but now as they arose and faced about, their countenances were filled with horror and rage when they discovered that the strange captive had so affronted their Queen.
Tomos went purple again. He spluttered with rage. "He is an ignorant and impudent savage, my Queen," he said; "but as he is about to die his actions are of no consequence."
"Why is he about to die?" demanded Nemone, "and how is he to die?"
"He is to die because he came here in the dead of night to assassinate your majesty," explained Tomos; "the manner of his death rests of course in the hands of our gracious Queen."
Nemone's dark eyes, veiled behind long lashes, appraised the ape-man, lingering upon his bronzed skin and the rolling contours of his muscles; then rising to the handsome face until her eyes met his. "Why did you not kneel?" she asked.
"Why should I kneel to you who they have said will have me killed?" demanded Tarzan. "Why should I kneel to you who are not my Queen? Why should I, Tarzan of the Apes, who kneels to no one, kneel to you?"