"Prince Ferdinand of Germany commands the guard to-night," whispered Cheops, in a low, unnatural voice "it is well, he shall go with us."
"But will he?" asked Clara tremblingly.
"Will he?" returned Cheops, with his peculiar sneer: "dost thou doubt my power, girl?"
Clara and Cheops had now reached a place from whence, unobserved, they could survey the whole of the splendid apartment before them. They had, in fact, entered the hall, and placed themselves in a kind of recess shaded by projecting pillars, from whence they could see every part of the saloon. Clara was astonished to find herself so easily in the presence of the Queen, for she knew not how they had attained their present situation; and she would have spoken to ask Cheops, but he laid his finger upon his lips: and whispering—"Hippocrates was the only son of Isis and Osiris!"—she comprehended he meant that Wisdom and Knowledge produced Silence, and she did not dare to breathe a syllable.
Rosabella sate upon a splendid dais, gorgeously attired; her black eyes flashing with added brilliancy from the deep rouge upon her cheeks; whilst her raven hair was adorned with diamonds, and a splendid tiara of the same precious stones sparkled on her forehead; a robe of crimson velvet, bordered with ermine, fell in graceful folds over her fine figure; whilst her swanlike neck and snowy arms, exposed perhaps more than delicacy might strictly warrant, were also loaded with costly jewels. Around her, stood the ladies of her court, and amongst the rest, Elvira, plainly attired in a robe of dark grey silk. No ornaments shone amongst her golden tresses, and her naturally fair complexion seemed faded to a sickly and unnatural whiteness.
The indignation of Clara could scarcely be restrained at this sight; but Cheops laying his hand upon her arm, they stood suddenly before the Queen.
"Ah! who are these?" cried Rosabella, starting. Cheops took no notice of her surprise; but, tuning his lute, began to sing.
"Loveliest Queen! oh deign to hear
The humblest of thy suppliants' prayer;
Blandly on a stranger smile,
Who has sought thy happy Isle,
To feast his eyes upon that face,
Where majesty combines with grace."
"What means this mummery?" asked Rosabella; "how came these minstrels here?"
"It is doubtless a device of the King," returned some of her ladies, "to amuse your majesty."