“The high priest told me thus—after his most gracious self, the king.”
“I believe it not.”
The four drew back in dismay. How dared she to dispute king and high priest. It was sacrilege. Never had such been known.
Courteously waving them off, she added:
“Go to them with my words.”
Notwithstanding their orders to use force, if necessary, they withdrew in reverence, for the queen’s majesty and fearlessness were most impressive as well as provocative of sympathy.
Upon the appearance of the unsuccessful four, the furious king hastened to the palace; and burst into the bower room to meet only the lady Rica, who informed him that the queen was in the room adjoining. He entered this to find Atlana leaning over Æole, whom she was vainly trying to comfort. Drawing back, he beckoned to her to follow him to an unoccupied apartment to one side.
When she had obeyed, and they could not be heard, he vociferated:
“Thou darest to set me at naught?”
“It is not Amen, nor Poseidon, then.” Atlana was grand in her brave dignity.