I bowed.

"I have heard others as stubborn," she said, "but they were
converted." She shook out the ruddy bunches of her hair, and stood
so that the light of the burning earth-breath might fall on the
loveliness of her face and form. "I have found it as easy to
convert the stubborn as to burn them. Indeed, there has been
little talk of burning. They have all rushed to conversion,
whether I would or no. But it seems that my poor looks and tongue
are wanting in charm to-day."

"Phorenice is Empress," I said stolidly, "and I am her
servant. To-morrow, if she gives me leave, I will clear away this
rabble which clamours outside the walls. I must begin to prove my
uses."

"I am told you are a pretty fighter," said she. "Well, I hold
some small skill in arms myself, and have a conceit that I am
something of a judge. To-morrow we will take a taste of battle
together. But to-day I must carry through the honourable reception
I have planned for you, Deucalion. The feast will be set ready
soon, and you will wish to make ready for the feast. There are
chambers here selected for your use, and stored with what is
needful. Ylga will show you their places."

We waited, the fan-girl and I, till Phorenice had passed out
of the glow of the light-jet, and had left the hall of waiting
through a doorway amongst the shadows of its farther angle, and
then (the girl taking a lamp and leading) we also threaded our way
through the narrow mazes of the pyramid.