A long procession emerged of such fantasy and variety of color that the two boys were spellbound. Elephants and camels, llamas and horses, all richly caparisoned in Eastern silks, passed along with their riders. Guards with curved swords and many-thonged whips formed a double hedge between those in the procession and the bystanders. Still others led leopards and black panthers on chains as an added protection to those they guarded. Palanquin after palanquin passed by, but still the crowd seemed to be waiting for something. [Illustration] Then, as the silver trumpets continued their sweet lingering notes, a murmur arose from the crowd. Four lines of youths preceded a palanquin more finely decked than the rest, and the murmur rose. After it came four lines of Chinese girls, fanning the air with peacock fans on long staves, fans of white egret feathers, and ostrich plumes dyed a yellow gold. [Illustration] "Amos!" Chris breathed, "That color! Yellow is the royal color of China!" He did not have to elaborate his thought, for the palanquin that finally came in sight showed by its richness that it could belong only to royalty, and by its beauty and grace, only to a woman. Made of silver and rock crystal, studded with diamonds and pearls, and hung about with sheer curtains of embroidered yellow silk, the palanquin belonged without doubt to a young girl of the royal house. As it appeared under the high arch of the outer gate, a roar of joy and greeting arose from the waiting crowd and with one accord every man bowed low, covering his eyes with the wide sleeve of his left arm. The women and girls in the crowd, and those leaning from the upper stories of the houses, threw down before the palanquin objects that flashed and twinkled in the sun. Remembering in time, for he had been so much absorbed he had momentarily forgotten it, Chris whipped out his spyglass and looked at the curtains of the palanquin. The thin silk was transparent enough under the strong focus of the glass, and behind it Chris could perceive, leaning delicately against silk cushions, a Chinese girl as beautiful as a dream. Her slightly uptilted eyes were large and dark, her skin put a magnolia flower to shame, her mouth was lifted in a charming smile, and her long exquisite fingers held a spray of jeweled flowers. All about the palanquin rained a shower of jeweled buds and petals, for no doubt a real flower was thought too inferior for the only child of the Descendant of the Sun and the Moon, Prince of all the Isles, and Lord of the Seven Seas, the Princess of China. CHAPTER 29 Chris put down his spyglass and the two boys, hidden on the piny knoll, watched the procession out of sight. "I'm supposed to take something from her," Chris said with his eyes sparkling, "but I know now what I'm going to give her back in return. I feel sort of sorry for that girl," he added thoughtfully.