With her right hand she held the scepter; one end of it rested upon the dais, upon the other was a statuette—of Zeeleenoanthelda, the half-historical, half-mythical first sovereign of Drome. Upon Lepraylya's brow, in a bejeweled golden diadem, was a large brilliance of pale green, flashing when she moved her head with prismatic hues and fires.
But this woman before whom we stood was no mere beauty. That one saw at the first glance. Wonderful, splendid, one felt, was the mind of her, the soul of Lathendra Lepraylya.
And not only that, but it was as though there was something uncanny in those pale gray eyes when she turned them to mine. That look of Lepraylya's did not meet look; it seemed to go right into my very brain, to search out its thoughts and its secret places.
At the time it seemed long, but I suppose that no more than a few seconds passed before she turned her eyes to Milton Rhodes, upon whom they seemed to linger.
And what were the thoughts of the queen as she saw before her two men from another world?
We could, of course, only guess.
And here again had superstition and a prophet loaded those dice upon a throw of which the fate of Milton Rhodes and myself depended; for one of the prophets had foretold the coming of men from another world—men who would be the harbingers of fearful calamities for Drome.
The snowy face of the queen was cold, impassive. Even when she slightly raised her right hand and the scepter to us in salutation, not the slightest change was perceptible upon a single lineament.
The next moment, however, there was a change—when she addressed Drorathusa. For each of the others of our little party Lepraylya had a kind word, and then we all moved back a few steps to the seats which had been reserved for us, all, that is, save Drorathusa. She, we at once perceived, was about to give an account of the journey up to the mysterious, the awful World Above.
There was not a vacant seat in all that great room, save one—that for Drorathusa. This was a little to the left of the throne, as one faces it, together with a dozen or so others, all occupied by persons whom I at once, and rightly, set down as priests and priestesses.