It was long impossible for the Rao Sahib to obtain a hearing. The Rani seemed to shrink from the storm of affectionate regard her rising had called forth. She realized that she had won a greater victory than Gwalior, the laurels of which no enemy could snatch from her brow. She had captured the hearts of the people. Again and again the Rao Sahib endeavored to enjoin silence, but it was temporarily obtained in one part only to be lost afresh in half a dozen quarters. At last he addressed those nearest to the dais. "My Lord Rajas," said he, "I need not present to you the great Lady who stands before the throne. To the noble Rani of Jhansi belongs all praise for the glory of this day. As imperishable as the fortress rock of Gwalior, her name will stand forth in the history of our race. By the will of the most illustrious Peshwa, I give to her the supreme command of the army of Gwalior, and for her adornment Sindhia's most cherished jewels. For the rest, is she not yours, to honor as you please"? Prasad had left his place in the suite, and taken the casket in his hands. He raised the lid and approached the Rani. Silence fell upon the expectant throng. With care he took from the casket rope after rope of matchless pearls. It was Sindhia's state necklace, once of the Imperial Regalia of Portugal. He handed the casket to another, and then gently hung the treasure about the Rani's neck. Swiftly he stepped back a pace or two. His sword flashed in mid-air as his voice resounded throughout the hall. "Hail! Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi. Hail! Victor of Gwalior, Princess of the Marathas." His voice died away for a moment without response, then the storm of enthusiasm burst forth anew. It grew into a frenzy almost approaching madness. They shouted that she should be proclaimed Queen of Gwalior as well as Jhansi. The Rao Sahib became apprehensive that she might be swept on the wave of popular favor even to the dignity of the Peshwa's throne. Without, the plaudits increased above the tumult in the hall. An officer with difficulty elbowed his way to the dais. He delivered a message to the Rao Sahib. "The people," he cried, "would have the Rani of Jhansi come forth so that they may behold the light of her countenance." The Rao Sahib glanced uneasily over the surging mass and protested. "I fear for her person," he said. Then he asked. "Can they not be appeased in some other way? If thou wert to scatter money among them." "Noble Rao Sahib," the officer replied. "A hail of gold _mohrs_ would not satisfy their humor. They will see the great Rani, the Victor of Gwalior." "Aye, my Lord," the Rani interposed. "Surely will I go to the steps of the palace. These poor people. Do I not love them? If it pleases them to see but a frail being like themselves, their desire is easily gratified."