In front of the daïs were gathered a great number of people of both
sexes, who stood staring about in their peculiar gloomy fashion, which
would have reduced Mark Tapley himself to misery in about five minutes.
On the daïs was a rude chair of black wood inlaid with ivory, having
a seat made of grass fibre, and a footstool formed of a wooden slab
attached to the framework of the chair.

Suddenly there was a cry of "Hiya! Hiya!" ("_She! She!_"), and thereupon
the entire crowd of spectators instantly precipitated itself upon the
ground, and lay still as though it were individually and collectively
stricken dead, leaving me standing there like some solitary survivor of
a massacre. As it did so a long string of guards began to defile from a
passage to the left, and ranged themselves on either side of the daïs.
Then followed about a score of male mutes, then as many women mutes
bearing lamps, and then a tall white figure, swathed from head to foot,
in whom I recognised _She_ herself. She mounted the daïs and sat down
upon the chair, and spoke to me in _Greek_, I suppose because she did
not wish those present to understand what she said.

"Come hither, oh Holly," she said, "and sit thou at my feet, and see me
do justice on those who would have slain thee. Forgive me if my Greek
doth halt like a lame man; it is so long since I have heard the sound of
it that my tongue is stiff, and will not bend rightly to the words."

I bowed, and, mounting the daïs, sat down at her feet.

"How hast thou slept, my Holly?" she asked.

"I slept not well, oh Ayesha!" I answered with perfect truth, and with
an inward fear that perhaps she knew how I had passed the heart of the