By this time I was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger most acutely, and recollections of my last meal partaken on Earth in the London hotel rose greedily to my mind, as I began to guess how many weeks must have passed since I had eaten. "Your King is hungry and faint for need of food," I remarked in my best Ciceronian Latin to the Arch-priest, who, so I had observed, was now treating me with a degree of deference and even of obsequiousness that he had not shown in the chamber of the fountain. The old man bowed low and long, gave some instructions to Hiridia, whereupon he and I, followed by the two equerries, proceeded to leave the room. Before departing however, the Arch-priest hung a heavy chain of gold round Hiridia's neck, and presented similar chains, but of silver, to his two companions. One of these latter now bore the umbrella of state over my head and the other upheld the cloak, as with Hiridia beside me I prepared to quit the chamber, after I had returned with as much dignity as I could muster the sweeping obeisances of the three priests, who did not offer to accompany us. More corridors were traversed thus, before we finally entered a lofty pillared hall, which I at once rightly conjectured to be the banqueting chamber of the palace. Here were gathered many men, both young and middle-aged, all wearing clothes similar to those of my three companions, as also a considerable crowd of individuals dressed in short blue tunics and obviously of an inferior social caste. The first were, of course, the members of my Court, all eagerly expecting their new sovereign, whilst the latter were the servants of the household. On my appearance there were deep bows and genuflexions from the nobles assembled, and still lower bows from the menials, the latter raising their left arms to cover their faces, as though the sight of myself were almost too precious or sacred for humbler eyes such as theirs to dwell upon.