"So it is," he added, "'and searcheth to
the farthest bound.' Have I not done so? And do I not triumph?"
Then the youth who had once admitted St. George and his friends to
that far-away house in McDougle Street--with the hokey-pokey man
outside the door--entered with the poetry of deference; and if, as
he bent low, there was a lift and droop of his eyelids which tokened
utter bewilderment, not to say agitation, he was careful that the
prince should not see that.
"Her Highness, the Princess of Yaque, Mrs. Hastings, Mr. Augustus
Frothingham and Miss Frothingham ask audience, your Highness," he
announced clearly.
Prince Tabnit turned swiftly.
"Whom do you say, Matten?" he questioned and when the boy had
repeated the names, meditated briefly. He was at a loss to fathom
what this strange visit might portend; beyond doubt, he reflected
(in a world which was an intaglio of his own designing) it portended
nothing at all. He hastened forward to wait upon them and paused
midway the room, for the highest tribute that a Prince of the Litany
could pay to another was to receive him in this chamber of the
Crucified Sphinx.
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