It was with very undecided feelings, then, that I obeyed the
summons of the earth-shaking, and bade the slaves lead me through
the windings of the pyramid to the great banqueting-hall. The
scene there was dazzling. The majestic chamber with its marvellous
carvings was filled with a company decked out with all the gauds
and colours that fancy could conceive. Little recked they of the
solemn portent which had summoned them to the meal, of the death
and misery that stalked openly through the city wards without, of
the rebels which lay in leaguer beyond the, walls, of the neglected
Gods and their clan of priests on the Sacred Mountain. They were
all gluttonous for the passions of the moment; it was their fashion
and conceit to look at nothing beyond.

Flaming jets of earth-breath lit the great hall to the
brightness of midday; and when I stepped out upon the pavement,
trumpets blared, so that all might know of my coming. But there
was no roar of welcome. "Deucalion," they lisped with mincing
voices, bowing themselves ridiculously to the ground so that all
their ornaments and silks might jangle and swish. Indeed, when
Phorenice herself appeared, and all sent up their cries and made
lawful obeisance, there was the same artificiality in the welcome.
They meant well enough, it is true; but this was the new fashion.
Heartiness had come to be accounted a barbarism by this new
culture.

A pair of posturing, smirking chamberlains took me in charge,
and ushered me with their flimsy golden wands to the dais at the
farther end. It appeared that I was to sit on Phorenice's divan,
and eat my meat out of her dish.