They were on the aero station behind the platform of the aero, which seemed to shine--shine, not glitter--as though it were overlaid with plates of gold.
Again the faces looked west.

The Western Squadron was drawing near to the entrance of the Blue Mouth.

On the bridge of the yacht stood the Western King in uniform of an Admiral, and by him his Queen in a dress of royal purple, splendid with gold.

Another glance at the mountain-top showed that it had seemed to become alive.

A whole park of artillery seemed to have suddenly sprung to life, round each its crew ready for action.