The form, the dress, the long white hair and beard, the grave, dignified countenance, above all the deep, scrutinising, piercing eyes of the Founder--as I had seen them on a single occasion in Esmo's house--were now as clearly, as forcibly, presented to my sight as any figure in the flesh I ever beheld.

The eyes were turned on me with a calm, searching, steady gaze, whose effect was such as Southey ascribes to Indra's:-- "The look he gave was solemn, not severe; No hope to Kailyal it conveyed, And yet it struck no fear." For a moment they rested on Eveena's veiled and drooping figure with a widely different expression.

That look, as I thought, spoke a grave but passionless regret or pity, as of one who sees a child unconsciously on the verge of peril or sorrow that admits neither of warning nor rescue.

That look happily she did not read; but we both saw the same object and in the same instant; we both stood amazed and appalled long enough to render our hesitation not only apparent, but striking to all around, many of whom, following the direction of my gaze, turned their eyes upon the Throne.

What they saw or did not see I know not, and did not then care to think.