CHAPTER XV.
GOLD AND GLITTER.
The meteorite was stopped in the clouds of the sky. The angel-man, bronze, strong and glorious once more, flew down with Rondah and Regan, and they stood upon the raised steps of the great Cathedral, where all the assembled multitudes could see them.
For months previous to the departure Father Renaudin had been calculating and preparing for this return, for the ceremonial of the marriage and coronation of Rondah.
Sheets of yellow gold, spun fine and hanging heavy, glistened on the columns and were spread upon the floors, falling in rich masses to the foot of the long flight of steps.
As Rondah stood looking, a flock of bird women flew from one of the spires above and draped her in a veil and trailing robe of gold.
With much state, Father Renaudin, accompanied by a troop of elf men, alike in copying the red of his attire, and decked with glass and gold until they could scarcely trudge for their burden, came to meet her. Father Renaudin, no older than when he left Earth, with all the mark of earth care gone, years gone from his face, came to speak blessing, in which he even faltered. He feared for an instant that Regan had again brought to the star the wrong woman.
For that Rondah whom he had known stood no more before him. This gold-draped woman had beauty more fair than Earth gave, had wondrous eyes, glowing like stars. In her perfect face there was the chiseled beauty of an angel’s dream, not an earthly dream.
But still, like Regan, he knew it was Rondah, the same Rondah.
The lengthy marriage rite was first—stately, religious, slow. Even with its words Rondah kept thinking: “Am I here, or do I dream to waken to the old, lonely misery?”
With the benediction there swooped down her subjects by thousands to kiss her robe or her hand, or to caress her gold-red hair with one soft touch.