Last came
Prince Tabnit, dressed in pure white save for a collar of precious
stones from which hung the strange green gem that St. George
remembered. His clear face and the whiteness of his hair lent to him
an air of almost unearthly distinction. His delicate hands wearing
no jewels were at his sides, and his head was magnificently erect.
He mounted the dais as the music sank to silence, and without
preface began to speak.
"My people," he said, and St. George felt himself thrilling with the
strength and tenderness of that voice, "in the continuance of this
our time of trial we come among you that we may win strength and
courage from your presence. Since one mind dwells in us all, we have
no need of words of cheer. That no message from his Majesty, the
King, has come to us is known to you all, with mourning. But the
gods--to whom 'here' is the same as 'there'--will permit the
possible, and they have permitted to us the presence of the daughter
of our sovereign, by the grace of the infinite, heir to the throne
of Yaque.
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