But now all this had changed; the coy Nyleptha smiled no more in his direction, and he was not slow to guess the cause.

Infuriated and alarmed, he turned his attention to Sorais, only to find that he might as well try to woo a mountain side.

With a bitter jest or two about his fickleness, that door was closed on him for ever.

So Nasta bethought himself of the thirty thousand wild swordsmen who would pour down at his bidding through the northern mountain passes, and no doubt vowed to adorn the gates of Milosis with our heads.
But first he determined, as I learned, to make one more attempt and to demand the hand of Nyleptha in the open Court after the formal annual ceremony of the signing of the laws that had been proclaimed by the Queens during the year.
Of this astounding fact Nyleptha heard with simulated nonchalance, and with a little trembling of the voice herself informed us of it as we sat at supper on the night preceding the great ceremony of the law-giving.
Sir Henry bit his lip, and do what he could to prevent it plainly showed his agitation.
'And what answer will the Queen be pleased to give to the great Lord ?' asked I, in a jesting manner.
'Answer, Macumazahn' (for we had elected to pass by our Zulu names in Zu-Vendis), she said, with a pretty shrug of her ivory shoulder.

'Nay, I know not; what is a poor woman to do, when the wooer has thirty thousand swords wherewith to urge his love ?' And from under her long lashes she glanced at Curtis.
Just then we rose from the table to adjourn into another room.
'Quatermain, a word, quick,' said Sir Henry to me.