castle (where I also had ridden) on the back of her monstrous
shaggy mammoth, the starved sullen faces of the crowd brightened as
though a meal and sudden prosperity had been bestowed upon them;
and without a word of command, without a trace of compulsion, they
burst into spontaneous shouts of welcome.

She acknowledged it with a smile of thanks. Her cheeks were
a little flushed, her movements quick, her manner high-strung, as
all well might be, seeing the horrible sacrilege she had in mind.
But she was undeniably lovely; yes, more adorably beautiful than
ever with her present thrill of excitement; and when the stair was
brought, and she walked down from the mammoth's back to the ground,
those near fell to their knees and gave her worship, out of sheer
fascination for her beauty and charm.

Ylga, the fan-girl, alone of all that vast multitude round the
Sun temple contained herself with her formal paces and duties. She
looked pained and troubled. It was plain to see, even from the
distance where I stood, that she carried a heavy heart under the
jewels of her robe. It was fitting, too, that this should be so.
Though she had been long enough divorced from his care and fostered
by the Empress, Ylga was a daughter of Zaemon, and he was the
chiefest of our Lord the Sun's ministers here on earth. She could
not forget her upbringing now at this supreme moment when the
highest of the old Gods was to be formally defied. And perhaps
also (having a kindness for Phorenice) she was not a little
dreadful of the consequences.

But the Empress had no eye for one sad look amongst all that
sea of glowing faces. Boldly and proudly she strode out into the