He was wearing garments of grey, cut in unusual and graceful lines, and his throat was closely wound in folds of soft white, fastened by a rectangular green jewel of notable size and brilliance.

His eyes, large and of exceeding beauty and gentleness, were fixed upon St.George.
"Sir," said St.George, "we have been given this address as one where we may be assisted in some inquiries of the utmost importance.
The name which we have is simply 'Tabnit.' Have I the honour--" Their host bowed.
"I am Prince Tabnit," he said quietly.
St.George, filled with fresh amazement, gravely named himself and, making presentation of the others, purposely omitted the name of Miss Holland.

However, hardly had he finished before their host bowed before Miss Holland herself.
"And you," he said, "you to whom I owe an expiation which I can never make,--do you know it is my servant who would have taken your life ?" In the brief interval following this naive assertion, his guests were not unnaturally speechless.

Miss Holland, bending slightly forward, looked at the prince breathlessly.
"I have suffered," he went on, "I have suffered indescribably since that terrible morning when I missed her and understood her mission.
I followed quickly--I was without when you entered, but I came too late.

Since then I have waited, unwilling to go to you, certain that the gods would permit the possible.