For the first few moments the appearance of Una and Narva at the far end of the portico was unnoticed. Then, as the music died away, the singer turned and slowly approached them, her manner showing neither surprise nor displeasure at their presence. As her glance fell upon them Narva made a low obeisance with a gesture evincing the most profound self-abasement. In grace and majesty of bearing the being whom she thus saluted was worthy her homage. Tall and nobly proportioned, serene of countenance and of a faultless beauty, the deference of those about her seemed a natural tribute to her queenliness. That high rank belonged to her by right was suggested by a gold coronet encircling her head. In the center of this coronet gleamed an emerald of a size and purity rare even to Bogota, the land of emeralds. An engaging womanliness, however, softened the dignity of her carriage, the luster of this emblem of her royalty. To Narva, prostrate before her, she stretched out a hand with affectionate eagerness, speaking to her, at the same time, in a tongue unintelligible to Una. Saluting her again with the utmost reverence, the aged sibyl apparently answered her questions. She then continued a voluble relation, the main purpose of which, as Una surmised, had to do with the finding of strangers in the cave. During this recital the being whom Narva addressed regarded Una intently, her gaze manifesting an interest she was at no pains to conceal. Having heard Narva to the end she slowly approached Una and, to the latter's amazement, spoke to her in English. "I am Sajipona," she said. "Some call me Queen of the Indians; I am a queen; but, of my kingdom, this last home of my fathers is all that your people have left me. Deep underground, hidden from all men, few there are who know of its existence--and we guard the secret, if need be, with our lives. Against our law you have ventured here. Why have you come?" To the abrupt inquiry Una had no answer ready. She hesitated; then, recalling her mission, she returned the gaze of her questioner with an awakened courage that went well with her maidenly beauty. "I seek one who is dear to me," she replied. "Why do you think he is here?" demanded Sajipona. "Once, years ago, he was lost. It is said he was in this cave. Now he has disappeared again--and we look for him here. I know nothing of your law. You are good--I am sure of it--I beg of you to help me." The appeal was impulsively made. A smile of sympathy lighted the features of the queen, followed by a look of pain. Her cheeks paled, the hand, still clasping the lyre upon which she had been playing, trembled. Averting her gaze, she turned towards the window where she had first been standing. "Why should I help you?" she said. "You have broken our law." "We didn't know of your law. All we want is to find him." "If the man you seek is here of his own will, why should I help you find him? He may wish to remain unknown."