The wind was now beginning to blow westward from the mountain-top, and it took the sounds towards the armoured fort, so that at moments we could distinguish the cheers of the various nationalities, amongst which, more keen than the others, came the soft "Ban Zai!" of the Japanese.
King Rupert, holding his steering levers, sat like a man of marble.
Behind him his beautiful wife, clad in her Shroud, and holding in her arms the young Crown Prince, seemed like a veritable statue.
The aero, guided by Rupert's unerring hand, lit softly on the after-deck of the Western King's yacht; and King Rupert, stepping on deck, lifted from her seat Queen Teuta with her baby in her arms.

It was only when the Blue Mountain King stood amongst other men that one could realize his enormous stature.

He stood literally head and shoulders over every other man present.
Whilst the aeroplane was giving up its burden, the Western King and his Queen were descending from the bridge.

The host and hostess, hand in hand--after their usual fashion, as it seems--hurried forward to greet their guests.

The meeting was touching in its simplicity.