the expectant multitude, and I was aware every eye had suddenly turned
back to the palace porch, where, as we looked, a figure, wrapped in pale
blue robes, appeared and stood for a minute, then stole down the steps
with an eagerness in every movement holding us spellbound. I have seen
many splendid pageants and many sights, each of which might be the talk
of a lifetime, but somehow nothing ever so engrossing, so thrilling,
as that ghostly figure in flowing robes stealing across the piazza in
starlight and silence--the princess of a broken kingdom, the priestess
of a forgotten faith coming to her station to perform a jugglery of
which she knew not even the meaning. It was my versatile friend Heru,
and with quick, incisive steps, her whole frame ambent for the time
with the fervour of her mission, she came swiftly down to within a
dozen yards of where I stood. Heru, indeed, but not the same princess
as in the morning; an inspired priestess rather, her slim body wrapped
in blue and quivering with emotion, her face ashine with Delphic fire,
her hair loose, her feet bare, until at last when, as she stood within
the limit of the magic circle, her white hands upon her breast, her eyes
flashing like planets themselves in the starshine she looked so ghostly
and unreal I felt for a minute I was dreaming.

Then began a strange, weird dance amongst the imagery of the rings,
over which my earth planet was beginning to throw a haze of light.
At first it was hardly more than a walk, a slow procession round the
twin circumferences of the centred tripod. But soon it increased to an
extraordinary graceful measure, a cadenced step without music or sound
that riveted my eyes to the dancer. Presently I saw those mystic,
twinkling feet of hers--as the dance became swifter--were performing
a measured round amongst the planet signs--spelling out something,
I knew not what, with quick, light touch amongst the zodiac figures,
dancing out a soundless invocation of some kind as a dumb man might