Each mountaineer who had not a lit torch already lighted one, and the whole rising hillside was a glory of light.

The Queen rose, and the King an instant after.

As they rose men stepped forward and carried away their chairs, or rather thrones.

The Queen gave the King her hand--this is, it seems, the privilege of the wife as distinguished from any other woman.

Their feet took the time of the music, and they moved into the centre of the ring.
That dance was another thing to remember, won from the haunting memories of that strange day.