As we stepped out into view of the people a louder murmur arose, mingled with a ripple of applause. Three or four girls, hovering only a few feet in front of us, clapped their hands and laughed. The king placed Mercer and me on either side of him, and, standing with his hands on our shoulders, leaned over the balcony rail and began to speak.
A silence fell over the crowd; they listened quietly, but with none of that respect and awe with which a people usually faces its king.
Miela whispered to me. "He is telling them about your earth, and that you came here to visit us in friendly spirit."
There were some murmurs of dissent as the king proceeded, and once some bolder individual shouted up a question, at which a wave of laughter arose. As it died away, and the crowd appeared to listen to the king's next words, a stone suddenly came whirling up from below, narrowly missing the king's head. A sudden hush fell over the people at this hostile act; then a tumult of shouting broke loose, and a commotion off to one side showed where the offender was standing.
Mercer wheeled toward me, his face white with anger.
"Who did that—did you see him? Which one was it?"
The king began to speak, as if nothing had occurred, and an instant later several more stones whistled past us. The commotion in the crowd grew more violent, but it was evident that a great majority of the people were against this demonstration.
"It is better we go inside," Miela said quietly.
The king was shouting down to his guards now, but they stood apathetically by, taking no part.
Another stone hurtled past us, striking the tower and falling at our feet. The king abruptly ceased his shouting and left the balcony. As he passed me and I glanced into his frightened face I felt a sudden sense of pity for this gentle, kindly old man, so well‑meaning, but so utterly ineffective as a ruler.