So strange was the man's demeanor that all who heard him marveled at its cause, yet Ninus spoke impatiently:
"Bid her begone, lest my servants scourge her from the city gates!"
The officer, with downcast eyes, retreated toward the door where every eye was turned in sharp expectancy of a stranger unbidden to the feast. From without the audience heard a murmur of protest cut short by a firm, imperious command; then the officer came slinking back into the hall.
"Lord," he quaved, trembling before the King, "thy high commands I gave, bidding the woman depart in peace, yet—yet she will not go."
"Will not!" King Ninus roared. "By Gibil's breath, what manner of wench is this to defy me in my teeth?"
"Lord," the soldier stammered in confusion, while his cheeks went white and red by turns, "lord, no mortal wench is she, but a spirit from the outer world, so fair to look upon that—"
A roar of laughter checked him, and even Ninus joined therein, yet presently the King spoke sternly, striving to hide his smile:
"Go, ape, and bring her hither! Yet mark you, man; if she be not fairer than any woman of my land, I swear to hang you from the highest roof in Nineveh!"
A titter arose and the blushing officer retired, to presently return with—not one stranger in his wake—but three. In the lead a woman strode, yet such a woman as the court of Ninus had never looked upon. She was clothed in a skirt of lamb's wool whose border touched her knee, her limbs encased in doe skin lashed with thongs; across her breast was flung a leopard's silky hide, and head dress had she none save a crown of flame-hued hair. In her hand she held a hunting spear, and at her back was slung her bow, together with its quiver and a sheaf of shafts. Behind her walked an Indian, of lowly mien but of mighty strength, who, besides his spear and bow, bore a half dried lion's skin, while at his heels a shepherd's dog came swaggering in as though the palace were some kennel of a lesser dog—and, strangely, the woman's bearing seemed the same.
On the assembled court the effect was varied and most strange. The women raised their brows in outward scorn of this stranger and her garb, yet in their secret hearts they knew a rival who outstripped them far; therefore they hated her and yearned that some swift calamity befall; but their husbands looked with a kindlier gaze. The warriors, the statesmen, aye, even the priests themselves, for a moment stood in silent awe, each face revealing what each soul would hide—wonder, worship, base desire—for the passions of men are tuned to divers keys when beauty strikes the chords.