Page:Weird Tales Volume 9 Number 5 (1927-05).djvu/118

 that dark brain of his had he been there the day that Rhodes showed Lepraylya, all those learned men and all those grand lords and ladies (ladies and lords, a Droman would say) the marvels of a steam-engine. Yes, there the little thing was, only two feet or so high but perfect in all its parts, puffing away merrily, and puffing and puffing, and all those Dromans looking on in wonder and delight.

Even as we sat there, came word that Brendaldoombro was dead. He had died suddenly and painlessly just after placing his hand in blessing on the head of a little child.

Well, they gave him a magnificent funeral. Peace to his soul!

On the death of the Droman high priest (or priestess) a successor is chosen, in the great temple in the Golden City, by a synod composed of exactly five hundred, the majority of whom are usually priestesses. On the very first ballot, Drorathusa (who was already on her way back from her lonely place of exile) was chosen.

Priests and priestesses, I should perhaps remark, are free to marry, unless they have taken the vow of . This (voluntarily, of course) many of them do. Drorathusa, by the way, had not done so.

now been in Drome a little over seven months. It was not very long afterward that Rhodes told me he was going to get married—to Lathendra Lepraylya herself! The news, however, was not wholly unexpected. Well, not every man of us can marry a queen—though of queens there are plenty.

I take the following from my journal for May the 10th:

"They were married today, about 10 o'clock, in the great temple; and a very grand wedding it was, too. Drorathusa herself spoke the words that made them man and wife, for the queen of Drome can be married by the high priestess or priest only.

"Now, as she proceeded with the ceremony, which was a very long one, I thought that that pale face of Drorathusa's grew paler still and that a distraught look was coming into her eyes. Then I told myself that 'twas only a fancy. But it was not fancy. For of a sudden her lip began to tremble, her voice faltered, the look in her eyes became wild and helpless—and she broke down.

"A moment or two, however, and that extraordinary woman had got control over herself again. She motioned the attendant priestesses and priests aside; a wan smile touched her lips as she pressed a hand to her side and said: 'It was my heart—but I am better now.'

"She at once proceeded with the ceremony, voice and features under absolute control. Again she was Drorathusa the Sibylline.

"And so they were married. And may they live happy and happily ever after!"

And then, after the great nuptial banquet in the palace, off went the happy pair in the queen's barge for Leila Nuramanistherom, a lovely royal suite some thirty miles down the river; whilst I betook myself to the solitude of my rooms, there to ponder on the glad-sad lot of man, to hear over and over, and over again, those low tragic words: "It was my heart—but I am better now."

Sibylline, noble, poor Drorathusa!

facing the dangers, mysteries, horrors (and other things) of our descent to this strange and wonderful subterranean land, how often I said to myself: "If ever I get out of this, never again!" And I truly believed it at the time, though I