The boat moved like a thing instinct with life, and as it disappeared on the opposite side, Yermah’s tense gaze made itself felt on its object. Kerœcia moved uneasily, and then looked fixedly into the water stretched out before her. She first saw her own image, then beside it the ideal of her dreams—a helmeted figure, reflected full-length in the limpid stream. His tunic was of purple cloth, confined at the waist by a wide striped silk sash, which tied over the left hip and hung in long, heavy, fringed ends. The short, full skirt was of orange silk, with a wide band of embroidery around the bottom, and underneath were long, closely-woven woolen leggins of purple. The feet were protected by sandals with jeweled sides and straps across the instep. From his shoulders hung a leopard-skin cloak, double-faced, so that it was alike on both sides. He wore a square breastplate of stones, containing twelve jewels, proclaiming that he was Master of the twelve councilmen, and ruled continuously while the sun traveled through the twelve signs of the zodiac. At his side hung a burnished bronze sword, with a beautifully engraved scabbard, delineating a lion hunt from meet to finish. At first Kerœcia was fascinated, then a feeling of fear stole over her. She made a movement as if to fly, but in turning stood face to face with Yermah. An inarticulate sound died on her lips as she started back amazed and fearful. Her wide-eyed vision and strained attention searched the countenance of the pale and agitated man, who stood so near her that she felt the radiating warmth of his body. He remained motionless, but she shrank back, and was momentarily rooted to the spot. With a regal sweep of the arm, he bared his head, and with his right hand made the hierophant sign of command. He opened the hand, palm outward, the first two fingers pointing upward. He bowed profoundly, and carried the helmet hand to his heart lightly. Kerœcia quickly comprehending his intent as well as his rank and station, courteously made the Atlantian sign of submission. Yermah recognized it by a downward movement of his open right hand. “Pleasing in my sight, and welcome to all the Monbas, is the Servitor of Aztlan,” she said. “He who created the four elements forbid that fatigue or discomfort should be thy portion.” “It were an earthy spirit which could be mindful of the physical in this magnificent temple,” replied Yermah. His calm, even tones quieted and reassured her completely. “Have none of my fellows shown thee courtesy? Thy exalted station and goodness of heart demand much.” “Ample consideration met us at the newel-post of this wondrous structure. It were a puny effort indeed that would fail to convey such welcome as the season and occasion warrant. In harmony with this spirit, I have stolen away from my companions and have sought audience direct with thee. If ill-considered abruptness gives rise to inharmonious thought, forgive me. The head, and not the heart, is at fault.”