He had a poise of the head--some sudden awakening of the blood that had coursed in the veins of hereditary potentates.

Maggie looked at him; she had never known him like this.

She had known the man, she had never encountered the prince.
The big clock over the castle boomed out the hour, and at the same instant there arose a roar like the voice of the surf on a Malabar shore.

There was a crashing of glass almost in the room itself.

Already Steinmetz was drawing the curtains closer over the windows in order to prevent the light from filtering through the interstices of the closed shutters.
"Only stones," he said to Paul, with his grim smile; "it might have been bullets." As if in corroboration of his suggestion the sharp ring of more than one fire-arm rang out above the dull roar of many voices.
Steinmetz crossed the room to where Etta was standing, white-lipped, by the fire.