Now, things having gone on in this way for several thousands of years, yet no sweet slumber had ever closed the godlike eyes of P'hra Athiett, and all the lovely Dowâstrâs, i.e. the stars, finding themselves totally eclipsed, their brilliancy and beauty marred by this unceasing sleeplessness on the part of their sovereign, formed the wicked and cruel design of revolting against him, and of taking possession, by some means or other, of his golden car. Accordingly, instead of going to sleep, as had hitherto been their practice during the day, they all plotted together to hide themselves behind the many-tinted curtain of their monarch's chariot, and to watch his movements, in order to discover the cause of the singular attraction that drew him forever towards the earth, while he left his own vaulted and ethereal hemisphere to the tender mercies of stray suns or wandering comets. Having ratified with many an oath and many a vow their wicked compact, the treacherous Dowâstrâs, instead of going to bed like the dutiful children of a kind and beneficent ruler, only pretended to sleep, but all the while kept opening and shutting and blinking their bright, inquisitive little eyes, winking at one another and peering behind the golden curtains of the royal chariot at their unconscious master, who, fully believing that all his subjects were sound asleep, grew brighter and brighter, while over his round, genial face there beamed forth a smile of ineffable radiance as he approached the earth. At this very moment the rebellious Dowâstrâs, wondering at the blissful face of their monarch, peered out from behind the rainbow-hued drapery of the celestial chariot and turned their penetrating eyes towards the earth, where, to their astonishment, they beheld the matchless form and the divinely beautiful face of Vela Chow, who was lulling her wearied father to rest with the music of her sweet voice. "Ah! ah!" laughed the wicked Dowâstrâs, "now we have found out the secret." As soon as she had soothed her father to sleep, the lovely Vela Chow, all unconscious of what was happening around her, sauntered forth among the unfrequented woods and dells, making the voiceless hills and rocks re-echo her merry notes in melodious sounds; now culling rare wild flowers to wreathe round her lovely brow, now bathing her little feet in the cool crystal waters of a purling brook that murmured gently through the mountain caves and caverns, and anon raising her glad heart in thanksgiving and praise to the great, beneficent, and glorious P'hra Athiett.