Yes, clearly we were men and not demons, else never would we have brought such wonders as these to offer them as gifts to the Dromans. But old Brendaldoombro had his answer ready. "Instead," said he, "that proves that they are not men; only devils could be such wizards!" I have often wondered what dark thoughts would have passed through that dark brain of his had he been there the day that Milton Rhodes showed Lathendra Lepraylya, all those learned men and all those grand lords and ladies (ladies and lords, a Droman would say) the marvels of a steam-engine. Yes, there the little thing was, only two feet or so high but perfect in all its parts, puffing away merrily, and puffing and puffing, and all those Dromans looking on in wonder and delight. Even as we sat there, came word that Brendaldoombro was dead. He had died suddenly and painlessly just after placing his hand in blessing on the head of a little child. Well, they gave him a magnificent funeral. Peace to his soul. On the death of the Droman high priest (or priestess) a successor is chosen, in the great temple in the Golden City, by a synod composed of exactly five hundred, the majority of whom are usually priestesses. On the very first ballot, Drorathusa (who was already on her way back from her lonely place of exile) was chosen. Priestesses and priests, I should perhaps remark, are free to marry, unless they have taken the vow of celibacy. This (voluntarily, of course) many of them do. Drorathusa, by the way, had not done so. Came, at last, the day when Milton Rhodes told me that he was going to be married--to Lathendra Lepraylya herself. The news, however, was not wholly unexpected. Well, every man of us can't marry a queen--though of queans there are plenty. I take the following from my journal: "They were married today, about ten o'clock, in the great temple; and a very grand wedding it was, too. Drorathusa herself spoke the words that made them man and wife, for the sovereign of Drome can be married by the high priestess or priest only. "Now, as she proceeded with the ceremony, which was a very long one, I thought that that pale face of Drorathusa's grew paler still and that a distraught look was coming into her eyes. Then I told myself that it was only a fancy. But it was not fancy. For of a sudden her lip began to tremble, her voice faltered, the look in her eyes suddenly became wild and helpless--and she broke down. "A moment or two, however, and that extraordinary woman had got control over herself again. "She motioned the attendant priestesses and priests aside; a wan smile touched her lips as she pressed a hand to her side and said: "'It was just my heart--but I am better now.' "She at once proceeded with the ceremony, voice and features under absolute control. Again she was Drorathusa the Sibylline. "And so they were married. And may they live happy and very happily ever after!"