I had seen that same expression in the eyes of the nobles of late, and in the faces of all the people I encountered in the streets--who, I mustn't forget to add here, never failed to treat me with a deference that was as intoxicating as it was inexplicable. It was as though some terrible fate hovered over the populace, some dreadful doom about which nothing could be done. No one put into words any fears that might confirm that impression; but continually I got the idea that everybody there went about in a state of attempting to live normally and happily while life was still left--before some awful, wholesale death descended on them. At last, from Aga, I learned the fateful reason. But first--a confession that was hastened by the knowledge of the fate of the city--I learned from her something that changed all of life for me. * * * * * We were surrounded by the luxury of her private apartment. We sat on a low divan, side by side. I wanted, more than anything I had ever wanted before, to put my arms around her. But I dared not. One does not make love easily to a queen, the three hundred and eleventh of a proud line. And then, as maids have done often in all countries, and, perhaps, on all planets, she took the initiative herself. "We have a curious custom in Zyobor of which I have not yet told thee," she murmured. "It concerns the kings of Zyobor. The color of their hair." She glanced up at my own carrot-top, and then averted her gaze. "For all of our history our kings have had--red hair. On the few occasions when the line has been reduced to a lone queen, as in my case, the red-haired men of the kingdom have striven together in public combat to determine which was most powerful and brave. The winner became the Queen's consort." "And in this case?" I asked, my heart beginning to pound madly. "In my case, my lord, there is to be no--no striving. When I was a child our only two red-haired males died, one by accident, one by sickness. Now there are none others but infants, none of eligible age. But--by a miracle--thou--" She stopped; then gazed up at me from under long, gold flecked lashes. "I was afraid ... I was doomed to die ... alone...." * * * * * It was after I had replied impetuously to this, that she told me of the terror that was about to engulf all life in the beautiful undersea city. "Thou hast wonder, perhaps, why I should be forward enough to tell thee this instead of waiting for thine own confession first," she faltered. "Know, then--the reason is the shortness of the time we are fated to spend together. We shall belong each to the other only a little while. Then shall we belong to death! And I--when I knew the time was to be so brief--" And I listened with growing horror to her account of the enemy that was advancing toward us with every passing moment. * * * * *