The Midnight Queen [36]
the whole room. The
air was redolent of perfumes, and filled with strains of softest
and sweetest music from unseen hands. At one extremity of the
room was a huge door of glass and gilding; and opposite it, at
the other extremity, was a glittering throne. It stood on a
raised dais, covered with crimson velvet, reached by two or three
steps carpeted with the same; the throne was as magnificent as
gold, and satin, and ornamentation could make it. A great velvet
canopy of the same deep, rich color, cut in antique points, and
heavily hang with gold fringe, was above the seat of honor.
Beside it, to the right, but a little lower down, was a similar
throne, somewhat lees superb, and minus a canopy. From the door
to the throne was a long strip of crimson velvet, edged and
embroidered with gold, and arranged in a sweeping semi-circle, on
either side, were a row of great carved, gilded, and cushioned
chairs, brilliant, too, with crimson and gold, and each for
every-day Christians, a throne in itself. Between the blaze of
illumination, the flashing of gilding and gold, the tropical
flush of crimson velvet, the rainbow dyes on floor and walls, the
intoxicating gushes of perfume, and the delicious strains of
unseen music, it is no wonder Sir Norman Kingsley's head was
spinning like a bewildered teetotum.
Was he sane - was he sleeping? Had he drank too much wine at the
Golden Crown, and had it all gone to his head? Was it a scene of
earnest enchantment, or were fairy-tales true? Like Abou Hasson
when he awoke in the palace of the facetious Caliph of Bagdad, he
had no notion of believing his own eyes and ears, and quietly
concluded it was all an optical illusion, as ghosts are said to
be; but he quietly resolved to stay there, nevertheless, and see
how the dazzling phantasmagoria would end. The music was
certainly ravishing, and it seemed to him, as he listened with
enchanted ears, that he never wanted to wake up from so heavenly
a dream.
One thing struck him as rather odd; strange and bewildered as
everything was, it did not seem at all strange to him, on the
contrary, a vague idea was floating mistily through his mind that
he had beheld precisely the same thing somewhere before.
Probably at some past period of his life he had beheld a similar
vision, or had seen a picture somewhere like it in a tale of
magic, and satisfying himself with this conclusion, he began
wondering if the genii of the place were going to make their
appearance at all, or if the knowledge that human eyes were upon
them had scared them back to Erebus.
While still ruminating on this important question, a portion of
the tapestry, almost beneath him, shriveled up and up, and out
flocked a glittering throng, with a musical mingling of laughter
and voices. Still they came, more and more, until the great room
was almost filled, and a dazzling throng they were. Sir Norman
had mingled in many a brilliant scene at Whitehall, where the
gorgeous court of Charles shown in all its splendor, with the
"merry monarch" at their head, but all he had ever witnessed at
the king's court fell far short of this pageant. Half the
brilliant flock were ladies, superb in satins, silks, velvets and
jewels. And such jewels! every gem that ever flashed back the
sunlight sparkled and blazed in blending array on those beautiful
bosoms and arms - diamonds, pearls, opals, emeralds, rubies,
garnets, sapphires, amethysts - every jewel that ever shone. But
neither dresses nor gems were half so superb as the peerless
forms they adorned; and such an army of perfectly beautiful
faces, from purest blonde to brightest brunette, had never met
and mingled together before.
Each lovely face was unmasked, but Sir Norman's dazzled eyes in
vain sought among them for one he knew. All that "rosebud garden
of girls" were perfect strangers to him, but not so the gallants,
who fluttered among them
air was redolent of perfumes, and filled with strains of softest
and sweetest music from unseen hands. At one extremity of the
room was a huge door of glass and gilding; and opposite it, at
the other extremity, was a glittering throne. It stood on a
raised dais, covered with crimson velvet, reached by two or three
steps carpeted with the same; the throne was as magnificent as
gold, and satin, and ornamentation could make it. A great velvet
canopy of the same deep, rich color, cut in antique points, and
heavily hang with gold fringe, was above the seat of honor.
Beside it, to the right, but a little lower down, was a similar
throne, somewhat lees superb, and minus a canopy. From the door
to the throne was a long strip of crimson velvet, edged and
embroidered with gold, and arranged in a sweeping semi-circle, on
either side, were a row of great carved, gilded, and cushioned
chairs, brilliant, too, with crimson and gold, and each for
every-day Christians, a throne in itself. Between the blaze of
illumination, the flashing of gilding and gold, the tropical
flush of crimson velvet, the rainbow dyes on floor and walls, the
intoxicating gushes of perfume, and the delicious strains of
unseen music, it is no wonder Sir Norman Kingsley's head was
spinning like a bewildered teetotum.
Was he sane - was he sleeping? Had he drank too much wine at the
Golden Crown, and had it all gone to his head? Was it a scene of
earnest enchantment, or were fairy-tales true? Like Abou Hasson
when he awoke in the palace of the facetious Caliph of Bagdad, he
had no notion of believing his own eyes and ears, and quietly
concluded it was all an optical illusion, as ghosts are said to
be; but he quietly resolved to stay there, nevertheless, and see
how the dazzling phantasmagoria would end. The music was
certainly ravishing, and it seemed to him, as he listened with
enchanted ears, that he never wanted to wake up from so heavenly
a dream.
One thing struck him as rather odd; strange and bewildered as
everything was, it did not seem at all strange to him, on the
contrary, a vague idea was floating mistily through his mind that
he had beheld precisely the same thing somewhere before.
Probably at some past period of his life he had beheld a similar
vision, or had seen a picture somewhere like it in a tale of
magic, and satisfying himself with this conclusion, he began
wondering if the genii of the place were going to make their
appearance at all, or if the knowledge that human eyes were upon
them had scared them back to Erebus.
While still ruminating on this important question, a portion of
the tapestry, almost beneath him, shriveled up and up, and out
flocked a glittering throng, with a musical mingling of laughter
and voices. Still they came, more and more, until the great room
was almost filled, and a dazzling throng they were. Sir Norman
had mingled in many a brilliant scene at Whitehall, where the
gorgeous court of Charles shown in all its splendor, with the
"merry monarch" at their head, but all he had ever witnessed at
the king's court fell far short of this pageant. Half the
brilliant flock were ladies, superb in satins, silks, velvets and
jewels. And such jewels! every gem that ever flashed back the
sunlight sparkled and blazed in blending array on those beautiful
bosoms and arms - diamonds, pearls, opals, emeralds, rubies,
garnets, sapphires, amethysts - every jewel that ever shone. But
neither dresses nor gems were half so superb as the peerless
forms they adorned; and such an army of perfectly beautiful
faces, from purest blonde to brightest brunette, had never met
and mingled together before.
Each lovely face was unmasked, but Sir Norman's dazzled eyes in
vain sought among them for one he knew. All that "rosebud garden
of girls" were perfect strangers to him, but not so the gallants,
who fluttered among them