ollowers,
among a crowd of unsuspecting Axphainians, and had taken his position
near the throne. Anguish entered with Baron Dangloss and they stood
together near the doorway, the latter whiter than he had ever been in
his life.

Then came the hush of expectancy. The doors swung open, the curtains
parted and the Princess entered.

She was supported by the arm of her tall uncle, Caspar of Halfont. Pages
carried the train of her dress, a jeweled gown of black. As she advanced
to the throne, calm and stately, those assembled bent knee to the
fairest woman the eye ever had looked upon.

The calm, proud exterior hid the most unhappy of hearts. The resolute
courage with which her spirit had been braced for the occasion was
remarkable in more ways than one. Among other inspirations behind the
valiant show was the bravery of a guilty conscience. Her composure
sustained a shock when she passed Allode at the door. That faithful,
heart-broken servitor looked at her face with pleading, horror-struck
eyes as much as to say: "Good God, are you going to destroy Graustark
for the sake of that murderer? Have pity on us--have pity!"

Before taking her seat on the throne, she swept the thrilled assemblage
with her wide blue eyes. There were shadows beneath them and there
were wells of tears behind them. As she looked upon the little knot of
white-faced northern barons, her knees trembled and her heart gave a
great throb of pity. Still the face was resolute. Then she saw Anguish
and the suffering Dangloss; then the accusing, merciless eyes of
Gabriel. At sight of him she started violently and an icy fear crept
into her soul. Instinctively she searched the gorgeous company for the
captain of the guard. Her staunchest ally was not there. Was she to
hear the condemning words alone? Would the people do as Quinnox had
prophesied, or would they believe Gabriel and curse her?

She sank into the great chair and sat with staring, helpless eyes,
deserted and feeble.

At last the whirling brain ended its flight and settled down to the
issue first at hand-the transaction with Bolaroz. Summoning all her
self-control, she said:

"You are come, most noble Bolaroz, to draw from us the price of our
defeat. We are loyal to our compact, as you are to yours, sire. Yet, in
the presence of my people and in the name of mercy and justice, I ask
you to grant us respite. You are rich and powerful, we despoiled and
struggling beneath a weight we can lift and