Fancy a breakfast of eggs, milk, honey, dried birds, fruit, and cakes made of corn and honey—ye epicures. Well would it be could ye more than fancy. Well would it be for your poor, ill-treated organs!
But, upon this sensible, paradisiacal breakfast was stealing the serpent. Through the garden was approaching Atlano, though not with the soft, quick gliding of the animal mentioned, but with infuriated stride. However, as the serpent is the symbol of sense, the comparison will hold.
And the happy eyes of the eaters fell as one upon him! For, they were happy, in spite of what had been undergone, in spite of the parting to come. They were happy in being together.
Very calmly, cheerfully did the queen arise to meet him as he drew near, though his scowling looks were sufficient to have chilled the stoutest heart. However, in response to her salutation, he forced a smile; and bowed to the others, who, following the queen’s example, had also arisen and saluted him.
Then he said, in questioning tone, “Ye are early at the morning meal.”
“Yea, Atlano. But—for very good cause.” Rather faltering was the queen’s reply.
“I have not broken fast since this troubled night.”
“Come, then; and be strengthened.” With the words, Atlana motioned him to the seat relinquished by Æole. Quite tractably he took this, and was permitting the maidens to serve him, when his eyes fell upon Hellen, who was standing beside Æole and Electra, and talking fast.
Direful was the anger that showed in his face; and this smote upon the queen. Though she tried to talk with ease as he grew even angrier, seeming with every morsel to choke the more. Finally, unable to restrain himself, he demanded in what is known as a stage undertone, “Why is Hellen here—and at this meal?”
“It is his last morning, as thou knowest.”