"Order Samuel to bring up the two young girls, immediately." The old woman bowed and vanished behind the curtain. Almost at the same moment Brunhild stepped out of her bedroom. The Queen was sixty-seven years of age; the lines on her face still preserved the traces of exceptional beauty. Her wan and wrinkled face was illumined by the somber brilliancy of her two large but sunken eyes, which were surrounded with deep, dark circles. They were black, like her long eyelashes; only her hair was white. A front of brass, cruel lips, penetrating eyes, a head haughtily poised, proud and lofty carriage, seeing that she had preserved a straight and supple waist--such was Brunhild. She had hardly stepped into the apartment, when she stopped, listened and said to Chrotechilde: "Who is coming up the little stairs?" "The slave merchant; he has two young girls with him." "Let him in--let him in!" "Madam, whom do you intend to present with the two slave girls that he brings?" "I shall tell you later. But I am in a hurry to examine the two creatures. The choice is important." "Madam, here is Samuel." The dealer in Gallic flesh, a Jew by extraction like most of the men who devoted themselves to such traffic, entered, followed by the two slaves whom he brought with him. They were wrapped in long white veils, that were transparent enough to enable them to walk unassisted. "Illustrious Queen," said the Jew dropping on one knee and bowing so low that his forehead almost touched the floor, "I am here obedient to your orders; here are two young female slaves; they are veritable treasures of beauty, of sweetness, of gracefulness, of gentleness and above all of maidenliness. Your excellency knows that old Samuel has but one quality--that of being an honest trader." "Rise--rise!" commanded Brunhild, addressing the two girls, who, at the sight of the redoubted Queen, had fallen on their knees at the threshold of the door near the merchant. "Let the girls rise, and remove their veils."