The Centaurians
Saxe. took my arm, murmuring encouragingly, while the splendid stranger smiled warmly, sympathetically, and not at all like a party who had burned all his passions centuries ago.
We hurried down the columned hall, brilliant with reflecting lights gleaming from panel and dome. Low, sweet music greeted our ears, and judging by the hubbub there were many people waiting to meet us. Through wide arched entrances we caught glimpses of a great banquet hall, whose mirrored walls reflected myriad hues flashing upon jewels of gorgeously attired guests. A dazzling scene of fabulous grandeur alcoved with a background like a gigantic painting; a dimly-lit miniature forest stretched wide beyond, restful, quieting, in rich green tints, and the refreshing splash of perfumed fountains cooled the air.
We stepped within this radiant magnificence. At once conversation ceased, all eyes were focused upon us. But I—ah!—was oblivious to all things; my whole attention chained to the tall, statuesque form of a woman. Masses of jetty, rippling tresses reached the hem of her gown, and perched upon her head, yet fitting closely, revealing perfect outlines, was a cap of dull gold ornamented with slender spikes, a huge gem flashing in the center. She turned and quickly advanced. We bowed low before the majestic dignity of her bearing. And the face! divine, beautiful, darkly tinted, heavy-browed, with deep, strange eyes, whose cold, meaningless, unresponsive stare flashed a dead chill to my heart. God! how common, matter-of-fact the world suddenly ap-
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