“Be welcome, and sit down at my side.” And with a slender finger like a ray of white light she pointed to the purple cushions on the ground. Balthasar sat down, gave a great sigh, and grasping a cushion in each hand he cried hastily: “Madam, I would these two cushions were two giants, your enemies; I would wring their necks.” And as he spoke he clutched the cushions with such violence in his hands that the delicate stuff cracked and out flew a cloud of snow-white down. One of the tiny feathers swayed a moment in the air and then alighted on the bosom of the queen. “My lord Balthasar,” Balkis said, blushing; “why do you wish to kill giants?” “Because I love you,” said Balthasar. “Tell me,” Balkis asked, “is the water good in the wells of your capital?” “Yes,” Balthasar replied in some surprise. “I am also curious to know,” Balkis continued, “how a dry conserve of fruit is made in Ethiopia?” The king did not know what to answer. “Now please tell me, please,” she urged. Whereupon with a mighty effort of memory he tried to describe how Ethiopian cooks preserve quinces in honey. But she did not listen. And suddenly, she interrupted him. “My lord, it is said that you love your neighbour, Queen Candace. Is she more beautiful than I am? Do not deceive me.” “More beautiful than you, madam,” Balthasar cried as he fell at the feet of Balkis, “how could that possibly be!” “Well, then, her eyes? her mouth, her colour? her throat?” the queen continued. With his arms outstretched towards her, Balthasar cried: “Give me but the little feather that has fallen on your neck and in return you shall have half my kingdom as well as the wise Sembobitis and Menkera the eunuch.” But she rose and fled with a ripple of dear laughter. When the mage and the eunuch returned they found their master plunged deep in thought which was not his custom. “My lord!” asked Sembobitis, “have you concluded a good commercial treaty?” That day Balthasar supped with the Queen of Sheba and drank the wine of the palm-tree. “It is true, then,” said Balkis as they supped together, “that Queen Guidace is not so beautiful as I?” “Queen Candace is black,” replied Balthasar. Balkis looked expressively at Balthasar. “One may be black and yet not ill-looking,” she said. “Balkis!” cried the king. He said no more, but seized her in his arms, and the head of the queen sank back under the pressure of his lips. But he saw that she was weeping. Thereupon he spoke to her in the low, caressing tones that nurses use to their nurslings. He called her his little blossom and his little star. “Why do you weep?” he asked. “And what must one do to dry your tears? If you have a desire tell me and it shall be fulfilled.” She ceased weeping, but she was sunk deep in thought He implored her a long time to tell him her desire. And at last she spoke. “I wish to know fear.”