Suddenly a red light flashed into the room, and at the same moment a peal of thunder, louder than she had ever before heard, clattered over the trembling city.
A scream from her women caught her ear, and she started upright on her couch.
Aspa had divested her of her upper garment; she wore only her under-dress of white silk. Throwing the falling tresses of her splendid hair back over her shoulder, she leaned on her elbow and listened.
There was an awful stillness.
Then another flash and another peal.
A rush of wind tore open the window of feldspath which looked into the court.
Mataswintha stared out at the darkness, which was illuminated at every moment by a vivid flash of lightning. The thunder rolled incessantly, overpowering even the fearful howling of the wind.
Mataswintha felt relieved by this strife of the elements. She looked out eagerly.
Just then Aspa hurried in with a light. It was a torch, the flame of which was protected from the wind by a glass globe.
"Queen, thou--but, by all the gods! how dost thou look? Like a Lemure--like the Goddess of Revenge!"