CHAPTER XIII
A KING’S GREETING
During the walk – which now more resembled a procession, for they had been joined by numbers of the inhabitants who had heard the rifle shots and had come out in curiosity or alarm to inquire into the cause – Jack Templemore had observed many pumas that, like tame dogs, accompanied the people who crowded round them. They were mostly smaller than the one that had followed him from the mountain top down the canyon, though a few equalled it in size. But he looked in vain for any sign of recognition from any of them; and it really seemed as though his own jesting prophecy were being actually fulfilled.
They now arrived at a colossal edifice that reared its soaring walls and towers high up in the sky. They passed between its open gates, that appeared to be of gold and iron, beneath an archway that, far above their heads, spanned the space between two lofty towers of pink-white stone. In the courtyard within were many other soldiers. These, when the party entered, seemed crowded together in some confusion; but, at sight of Ulama and her attendants, they quickly formed into lines, in obedience to hoarse words of command, shouted by officers in gorgeous blue uniforms, and with white plumes waving in their helmets.
The courtyard was large enough for two or three hundred men to drill and march about in. In the centre was a fountain that threw into the air a jet of water that fell back with a sound of refreshing coolness into a marble basin, from which rose curious-shaped green plants that showed in pleasing contrast to the dainty whiteness of the stonework. Here and there were marble statues, and, between them, large vases filled with flowering plants. Above, a broad gallery ran round the enclosure, and from this a number of richly-dressed people gazed down upon the strangers as they entered with Ulama. The latter, making signs to Monella and his two friends to follow her, proceeded, through lines of soldiers and attendants who fell back respectfully before her, to an apartment at one side, outside which all remained save two or three whom she specially invited to accompany her. Around, were benches or divans and couches covered with richly embroidered stuffs; upon these she bade her guests be seated, begging them to await her while she sought out the king and solicited an audience.
When she had gone, a sudden silence fell on those she left behind; a silence that was the more noticeable, coming, as it did, after the confused hubbub and clank of arms that had filled the courtyard on the arrival of the strangers.
The scene was certainly a curious one. The homely, travel-stained dress of the new-comers contrasted strangely in its nineteenth-century plainness with the elaborate, brilliantly-coloured costumes of Zonella and the half dozen members of the princess’s suite who had entered with her; with the luxurious carpets, rugs, and cushions everywhere around; and with the magnificence of the whole surroundings, that spoke more of the sumptuous luxury and elaborate decorations of a Moorish ‘Alhambra’ than of what one would have expected in this isolated city of the clouds.
Monella stood, lost in thought, with bowed head and folded arms, his rifle, that that day had sent three human beings to their long account, resting against the wall beside him. Elwood, whose eyes had followed Ulama till she had disappeared through the inner door, also stood plunged in reverie, not noticing aught of his surroundings. Of the three, Jack Templemore alone seemed alive to the interest and strangeness of the scene. His keen, steady eyes were making mental notes of every line of the architectural designs, as though with the object of afterwards constructing a like edifice from memory; and, from the building, they travelled to its furniture and decorations, and thence, finally, to the dress and appearance of those of the princess’s suite who stood or sat around. Ergalon had remained outside with many more.
Presently, Templemore said quietly to Zonella, somewhat to her astonishment,
“What is the name of this city?”
“What!” she exclaimed, “do you not know then that you are in Manoa? Where did you suppose you were?”
“Manoa! H’m. The same as ‘El Dorado,’ I suppose, as the Spaniards called it?”
“I know nothing of that, or of who you mean by ‘the Spaniards,’” she replied. “Fancy your coming here and not knowing the name of the place! Where have you come from? I long to hear all about it. Are all the people there white like you and those with you? We have always been instructed, by our teachers here, that only black demons lived in the world beyond our island – at least we still so call it; though, of course, it is no longer an island; has not been for many, many long ages.”
But when Jack attempted explanations, he soon discovered that he knew too little of the language to make things clear to his companion. He became hopelessly involved, his descriptions quite impossible, and, in the end, he had to give it up as hopeless.
“You must wait till I know your language better,” he said with a sigh; “or else question my friends, who know far more of it.”
“I will wait as patiently as I can until you can tell me yourself,” she answered with an arch look. “I shall like better to hear it from you. I feel, too, a little afraid of your friend there – the older of the two. He seems so proud and dignified.”
Jack laughed.
“He is anything but that. He is as kind-hearted and good-natured a man as I have ever known. To-day he looks more serious than usual, perhaps. You see, we have had a disagreeable adventure, and do not yet know what may be its consequences.”
“I think, all the same, he is a man of great pride and dignity,” Zonella repeated. “He might be a great chief – a king – so far as one can judge from what one sees. He is not of the same race as you,” she went on with decision. “He is more like one of my own people. Your younger friend, too, is not unlike one of our people; though I do not see the resemblance so strongly there, as in the case of the other.”
This odd suggestion almost startled Templemore. Curiously enough, the same idea had struck him several times during the past half-hour; since, in fact, the opportunity had offered of comparing Monella’s face and form with those inhabitants he had seen. Except that he was taller than any, there were many points in which there was obvious resemblance; and Jack began to ponder upon it as a strange coincidence.
He was also surprised at the confidence with which the young girl had declared Monella to be of different race from himself.
“You must be an unusually quick observer,” he said presently, “to distinguish these things so readily. In my land young ladies do not much trouble themselves – ”
Suddenly, Zonella laid her hand upon his arm and leaned forward with a look of fervid earnestness.
“Who is this man?” she asked. “What is his name, and what brings him here, and just at such a time, too?” This last seemed to be said more to herself than to her companion.
“He is called Monella,” Jack told her. “I know of no other name; and, as to why he is here, I can no more tell you that than why you yourself are here. In some things he keeps his own counsel absolutely, and is altogether inscrutable.”
“Ah!” Zonella said this with a long breath. “Then, though he is your friend, and you are here together, you really know nothing of him. Is that what you mean?”
“Well,” returned Jack slowly, “it’s rather an abrupt way of putting it, but – well, I never thought of it in that light before – but – I really think you have about hit it.”
“Yes! You and he have met by chance, and have agreed to travel together for a time. And you have let him bring you here, I suppose, without troubling yourself to ask him his objects?” Zonella went on, still with her glance fixed on Monella.
Jack opened his eyes.
“You have a very direct way of putting things, I must say,” he laughed. “But again, I am bound to admit you are not far out.”
“And your other friend – what do you know of him?”
“Oh, I have known him since he was a child.”
“And yet,” the girl persisted, “he is very different from you. Are you sure he is of the same race as yourself?”
“Quite,” Templemore replied, laughing. “We are both of a nation that I suppose you have never heard of, but that makes no small amount of noise in the outer world, I can assure you. We are both English.”
Just then a heavy curtain was drawn back, and Ulama entered, and with her an immense puma, larger even than their friend of the canyon, and behind it the latter animal itself!
“Why,” exclaimed Zonella, “there is ‘Nea,’ who has been missing for several days,” and she called the animal to her. Great was her surprise to see it, after a brief acknowledgment of her greeting, turn to Jack and his two friends, with every sign of recognition and delight.
“Why, it’s Puss, by all that’s wonderful!” Jack cried. “At least, that’s the name I gave her,” he added, by way of explanation to Zonella.
“Do you know her, then? But how can that be?”
“She has been living with us for the last week; but she deserted us last night, and we wondered where she had got to.”
“Then that accounts for it. We could not think what had become of her.” And she began to chide the animal for its desertion of its home and mate.
“If ‘Tuo’ had known you were off gallivanting with strange people, ‘Nea,’ I fancy he would have come after you and marched you back.” Then, to Templemore: “But how odd that she should attach herself to you like that; you must have had some strong attraction for her.”
“It was not what she got to eat, at any rate,” said Jack. “In fact, I fear she was half starved. And at last she got so disgusted at what, I suppose, she thought our stinginess, that she went off hunting on her own account; and what she caught she offered, with a splendid lack of selfishness, to share with us.” And he went on to tell how he first met the animal; Elwood, meanwhile, recounting the same story to Ulama; and they learned that the two pumas were named ‘Tuo’ and ‘Nea.’
Presently, the princess gave a sign to her attendants, and they all followed her from the apartment, leaving the three strangers by themselves.
Elwood was the first to speak.
“We are to wait till the king is ready to receive us,” he said. “I wonder what he is like, and what sort of a reception he will give us! What say you, Monella?”
The latter turned slowly, and seemed to wake as from a deep reverie.
“I know not what to say, my son; but I am full of pain at all that has happened to-day. My mind misgives me that civil war will come out of it; yet we can but try to do our best, and leave the rest to a higher power.”
It was not long before the curtain was drawn aside again, and one entered who seemed to be a dignitary of the court.
“I have come,” said he, “to conduct you to King Dranoa.” And, with a ceremonious bow, he motioned to them to follow him.
They passed through many passages, across galleries and large halls, and up broad staircases covered with thick soft carpet that was noiseless to the tread.
On their way they saw many people of various costumes and appearance, who regarded the new-comers curiously, but not rudely. Presently they reached a heavy curtain before a doorway, where stood more soldiers and officers in brilliant uniforms. The curtain being drawn aside, they entered an immense hall, its sides lined with people, but the whole centre part unoccupied. They were ushered up this hall and there left standing, their conductor retiring to one side.
They found themselves confronting a high canopy, beneath which, upon a raised dais, a man, apparently somewhat past middle age, was seated; they had little doubt he was the king. He was a man of a fine presence, and seemed hale and vigorous, though his dark hair and beard were streaked with grey. His features were regular and well formed, his eyes steady and piercing; his expression was not unkindly; but his chin suggested weakness, a wavering and unsettled temperament. He was dressed in a long flowing robe, and large jewels sparkled upon his breast and shoulders, in the belt that girdled his waist and in the hilt of his short sword. On his head he wore a circlet that was simple in design, and scarcely to be called a crown; it was a band of gold with gems set as stars. Ulama was seated by his side; she, also, wore a golden circlet in which gleamed, with softened radiance, one cluster of large pearls. She had changed the simple dress in which she had been clad when they had first seen her, and now appeared in a costume that was fairly dazzling in its richness, yet in exquisite taste, and well chosen for showing to advantage her graceful figure.
At her feet Zonella sat, or rather half reclined, and other members of her suite were grouped around. Upon the other side of the king stood his ministers and officers of state, and his body guard, and, ranged around the hall, were many others of both sexes, looking curiously and silently upon the strangers.
Over the canopy was an immense star wrought in solid gold. Statues on pedestals were to be seen at intervals, and, most curious of all, on the walls were well-executed coloured frescoes depicting battle scenes.
The king rose and addressed them.
“Friends, I know not whence ye come, what brought ye hither, nor how ye succeeded in passing the wood of black demons and forced your way into our land. In ordinary circumstances it would have been my duty to send ye away forthwith, or even to imprison ye – possibly, still worse might have befallen. But my daughter hath told me that ye have saved her life – a life doubly, trebly dear to me in that she is my only child. But that ye came so opportunely on the scene, she who is my heart’s pride would e’en now be lying in the cold grasp of death.”
Here he paused, overcome with emotion.
“So,” he presently went on, “it has been described to me. I understand, also, that, by some strange chance, ye speak our language, and comprehend what I would say. We knew not that there were people outside this land of ours who were white like us, and, above all, could speak our tongue. But these wonders ye shall explain afterwards at your leisure. At this moment not curiosity, but gratitude inspires me, in that ye have restored my child to me. There is not one here” – his eyes travelled round the packed assemblage – “who will not join with me in thanking ye for that which ye have done. What say ye, friends?” – this to his people – “Ye have heard in what dire peril hath my daughter been this day. Shall we not give to those who rescued her a right good welcome?”
At this, the hitherto silent crowd burst out into acclamations. They cheered, they clapped their hands; they waved banners, they raised their spears and swords aloft and flashed them in the air; again and again the shouts went up, till they seemed in very truth to shake the walls.
When, by a motion of his hand, silence had been restored, the king resumed,
“Ye hear! All greet ye, and I thank ye. Be assured of my protection an’ ye have come in peace. But alas! I grieve to say I am not all-powerful. There are reasons for enjoining upon ye that ye be circumspect in your going to and fro, have always with ye the escort I shall give ye, and visit only places they shall indicate. This is not the time or place for further explanations, nor is it fitting I should now hear the wondrous things I doubt not ye can tell me. I only wish it understood that while I shall give ye my protection, and that of those devoted to me, ye must not hope too much from it; and it may fail ye, if ye observe not the conditions and limitations I have stated; the cause whereof I shall explain hereafter.”
“While we return thee our thanks, O King,” Monella answered, “on our part, also, let it be understood that we can protect ourselves. The cowardly assailants of the princess thy daughter fell before us like chaff before the fire. We could, an’ we had chosen, have destroyed them all, even to the last one; but we spared some that they might noise the tale abroad and warn others of their kind not to raise their hands against us. Yet do I regret that it was necessary to kill any. We came in peace and goodwill, not to maim and slay, or to spread alarm and desolation through thy land. Yet this was forced upon us.”
“It hath been so told to me. Perhaps, as ye say, ye can protect yourselves; and it hath been further told to me how ye wield the lightning and the thunder and blast your enemies, hurling them to the ground ere they can reach ye. For all that, if ye would go about in peace, and avoid the need for further exercise of your death-dealing powers, accept the guard I offer. If occasion arise, and they fail ye, and ye can help in your own defence – well, by so much the better will it be.”
“Thou hast well said, O King. It shall be as thou hast spoken,” Monella returned.
Throughout the interview the king had been eyeing the commanding figure of the man before him, not only with great intentness, but also even anxiously. Indeed, Monella, with his lofty stature and intrepid bearing, his nobly chiselled features, his bold, unflinching glance, would have made no unfitting occupant of the throne. And, possibly, this thought had struck the king, who once more spoke.
“And now I would fain know thy name, and what hath brought thee.”
“I am called Monella.”
“Monella! It hath a sound as of our own tongue,” returned the king. “And thine end in journeying hither?”
“That is for thine ear alone, O King,” Monella replied with decision, thereby arousing the surprise of all, the king included. Then, drawing from his breast a sealed roll of parchment he had brought with him, “But here is that which will in part explain.” And he handed the document to the king.
The king unrolled the parchment, but, as the first words met his eye, he started; then, growing more intent, he read on. But presently, in evident agitation, he stepped down from the dais, placed his hand on the other’s arm, and said in a voice that trembled with emotion,
“I will speak with thee alone. Follow me into my private chamber.” And, looking neither to the right nor to the left, he passed down the hall, Monella following, the crowd opening out to give them egress.
No sooner had they gone, than confused murmurs of astonishment and curiosity burst out on all sides. Elwood and Templemore, as much taken by surprise as any one, looked each in the other’s face inquiringly; but Zonella glided to their side and said in a low tone to Templemore,
“Said I not that thy friend was no ordinary man? Monella! Is it not like my name, Zonella? Methought, the moment my eyes rested on him, ‘That man is a great man – a wondrous man – and he is one of our people!’”
CHAPTER XIV
DAKLA
Ulama also left her seat and came forward to the two young men.
“Your friend,” she said, “has taken my father by surprise; else had he bidden you be seated. Nor did I know that he could not earlier have received you, or I would have sent my maidens to you with refreshment. Come now and sit near us, and I will point out to you my friends that they may be your friends; meantime Zonella will order fruit and wine for your sustainment. Anon you will be invited to our table; but meantime you will need something. We all do,” she added, when they made gestures of dissent, “so you will not be conspicuous in partaking here of what we offer you.”
Pages then entered bearing luscious fruits and tempting-looking foaming drinks; the former on massive salvers of pure gold, the latter in chalices of gold and silver set with gems. The fruits were all new to them, as also were the drinks; but, on tasting them, they found them to be all they looked.
The fruits were indeed delicious and refreshing; the drinks cooling and exhilarating: to Elwood and Templemore they were as nectar and ambrosia, and they said so, and asked many questions concerning them. But, seeing that the only information they received was a string of names that conveyed to them no meaning, they added little to their stock of knowledge.
They now talked freely with those around them; but found the questions showered upon them from all sides somewhat more than they could answer, so that Templemore said at last in an aside to the other,
“Tell you what it is, Leonard; we shall have to give a public lecture – or perhaps a series – and invite as many at a time as the Town Hall of the place will contain. Pity we didn’t bring some magic lanterns and dissolving views to illustrate what we have to tell them. I would have done so if I had only known.”
They, in their turn, were not less full of curiosity and interest in all they saw around them. The statuary, and, above all, the pictures amazed them.
“It upsets all one’s notions of history and all that,” said Jack quietly to Leonard, “to find this sort of thing in the so-called ‘new’ world. We might be back in Ancient Greece.”
“Or Babylon, or Nineveh,” Elwood answered. “It’s like a dream – and, strange to say, I have dreamed much of it before. I keep thinking I shall wake up presently and find that this city, with all that it contains, has vanished.”
“I trust not,” said Ulama – to whom the last part of the sentence had been addressed – with a smile. “I should not like to think that I, myself, am but a dream. But, since you speak of having dreams of that which you find here, know that I have strange dreams also. All my life it has been thus with me. Of late they have been less frequent than of yore, and the memory of them is confused and indistinct; but I know that in them I have seen – aye, more than once —your face, and the face of him you call Monella.”
Elwood regarded the maiden in surprise, and she continued,
“Yes, it is true. Tell me, Zonella, have I not often described to thee those I had seen in my dreams; and did not some resemble these? As to face thou canst not know, but as to garb and other details?”
“’Tis true,” replied Zonella gravely.
But the matter-of-fact Templemore found it hard to credit this; visions and the like were nothing in his way.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Quite,” both said.
“And – me – a – I – myself, I mean; was I there too?”
Templemore’s manner when he asked this question was so humorously anxious that Ulama laughed – a joyous, ringing laugh, the token of a soul innocent and free from care.
“No, indeed,” she answered. “I never dreamed of you.”
“And you?” he asked, turning to Zonella.
“No, never;” and she too laughed merrily.
“It really doesn’t seem fair,” said Jack, with an injured air. “Waking or sleeping, my friend has been a dreamer all his life; when we met with Monella we found he was one of the same sort; so those two were on terms immediately; but I – I am out of it all. Never had a dream in my life worth remembering. Not only that, but – as it now seems – I can’t even get into other people’s. I put it to you, Princess, am I not a little hardly done by?”
Thus they laughed and chatted, and time passed on, and still Monella and the king were closeted together. It was more than an hour – nearer two – before the king returned; and then alone.
“My friends,” he said, “the audience is at an end. Affairs of state demand my earnest thought, and I must now dismiss you. But,” beckoning the two young men to him, and taking in his own a hand of each, “once more let me commend these strangers to your care and friendship. They have rendered me to-day a service that is beyond price, and in rendering it to me, they have rendered it to us all. More I need not say, except to charge you to make their stay with us a pleasant one.”
He withdrew, and, with his absence, the crowd began to thin; only those belonging to the court remaining.
And now Ulama spoke.
“I shall hand you over to my good friends here,” she said. “Doubtless you will wish to make a change in your apparel and – ”
“Unfortunately we brought no change with us,” said Jack.
“They will bring you a choice of vestments,” she answered, laughing. “You will surely find something to your taste.” She bowed courteously, and went out, followed by Zonella and her attendants.
They were now taken in charge by the high chamberlain, whom they already knew by name – Colenna. He, in turn, handed them over to his son Kalaima, a bright-eyed, fair, talkative young fellow with whom they quickly found themselves on pleasant terms. He conducted them to a suite of chambers which would be, he said, reserved to them. They found there various suits which he laid out for their selection, instructing them, with much good humour, in the way in which they should be worn. These were, so he told them, the distinctive dresses of a noble of high degree; and were presents from the king as a mark of his special favour.
Elwood laughed at Jack’s expression while he turned over the various articles after Kalaima had left them to themselves, examining in turn the white tunic of finest silk embroidered with strange devices, the cap with jewelled plume, the heavy belt of solid gold, and the short sword and dagger; all ornamented with precious stones of greater value than they could estimate.
“Are you really going to deck yourself out in these things, Leonard?” he asked, with a rueful look. “Am I expected to do so too? Great Scott! What would our friends in Georgetown say if they could see us masquerading in this toggery?”
“When at Rome you must do as Rome does, I suppose,” Elwood returned lightly. “After all, I don’t suppose it will seem half so strange to the good people here as would our continuing to wear our present dress.”
“There’s a good deal, no doubt, to be said for that view,” Jack said with resignation. “And, since it is intended as a compliment, I suppose we must e’en accept it as such. I only hope I shall be able to keep my countenance when I look at you – that is, before the king and others. At present I feel very much afraid that it may prove beyond my powers.”
In their suite of chambers was a bath, with water deep and broad enough to swim in. A refreshing plunge, a reclothing in the unfamiliar raiment, and they emerged from their apartments dressed as nobles of the country. The attempts, honest, but too often futile, made by Templemore to preserve his gravity, caused him at times more personal discomfort than did even the strange garb but, since use accustoms us to pretty nearly everything the efforts required became gradually less and less.
But what sobered him, so to speak, the most, was his meeting with Monella, who was now attired in like fashion to themselves. The change seemed to have made an extraordinary alteration in the man. He looked taller and more imposing than ever, and in his gait and manner there were an added grace and dignity. It could now be seen that his form was supple and muscular as that of a young man’s, graceful in the swing of the limbs and in every pose. His eyes retained their unique expression that seemed to magnetise those upon whom they fell; but his face had a greater gravity than ever, and something of a majesty that awed Templemore when he noted it.
“Of a truth,” he said to Elwood, “that man seems to alter from day to day even from hour to hour. He is just as kindly, as courteous, and as gentle; just as thoughtful – yet, I feel somehow that there is a gulf deepening between us, and that it is widening, slowly but surely. Yet not because one likes him less – that’s just it, you seem to like him and admire him more and more – but you feel you do it from afar – from a gradually increasing distance.”
And when, later in the day, they sat down to a banquet at the king’s table, and saw Monella seated beside the king, taking the post of honour and accepting it with the easy dignity of one who had been used to it all his life; not only the observant Jack, but the less seriously-minded Leonard, felt, with increasing force, the feeling the former had described.
During this repast they learned that the Manoans were vegetarians; though their cookery was so skilful that such dishes as the strangers tasted they found both appetising and satisfying. Not only that, but, as they soon discovered, these dishes were fully as invigorating and nourishing as a meat diet. This was due to the presence of some strange vegetable or herb in nearly every dish; but what this was they could not then determine.
At dusk, a new surprise awaited them; for, not only the palace, but the whole city was lighted up by what they quickly recognised as the electric light. They now could understand the brilliant aspect of the city as first seen by them at night from the head of the canyon.
After the meal, Templemore and Elwood went out, with many more, upon a terrace that overlooked the lake; where now boats were going to and fro, some paddled by oars, some drawn by the large white swans. But what at first puzzled the new-comers were the antics of some who threw themselves into the water from considerable heights. Instead of falling almost vertically, as a diver would, they swept down in a graceful curve, striking the water almost horizontally, then bounded up and flew through the air for a short distance, till once more they touched the water and bounded up again. Finally, when the impetus was expended, they swam back to shore or were taken thither in a boat. Of course this style of bathing could not be practised in puris naturalibus, or in ordinary bathing dress; so they were furnished with a kind of divided parachute, or twin parachutes, not unlike artificial wings; with these they could descend from towers and great heights and with a long swallow-like sweep, striking the water and rebounding again and again. By practice some had obtained a wonderful dexterity in this amusement, and their evolutions would have deceived a stranger, viewing them from a distance, into a belief that they were actual flying creatures. Some of the children – who chiefly delighted in this pastime – were very expert at it.
While watching the gay scene before them – a repetition of what they had witnessed from afar – Kalaima came to say that the king requested their presence in his council chamber. Following the young man they entered a hall, smaller than that in which they had first been received, and found the king throned under a canopy as before, and Monella seated near him. Around the hall were ten or twelve of his chief ministers and officers, each placed before a small table, Upon which were ink-horns, pens, and sheets of parchment.