THE RESCUE FAILS Our breakfast on the following morning was a somewhat gloomy meal.

By common consent no allusion was made to the events of the previous day, or to our conversation at bedtime.
Indeed, there was no talk at all to speak of, since, not knowing what else to do, I thought I could best show my attitude of mind by preserving a severe silence, while Quick seemed to be absorbed in philosophical reflections, and Orme looked rather excited and dishevelled, as though he had been writing poetry, as I daresay was the case.

In the midst of this dreary meal a messenger arrived, who announced that the Walda Nagasta would be pleased to see us all within half-an-hour.
Fearing lest Orme should say something foolish, I answered briefly that we would wait upon her, and the man went, leaving us wondering what had happened to cause her to desire our presence.
At the appointed time we were shown into the small audience room, and, as we passed its door, I ventured to whisper to Oliver: "For your own sake and hers, as well as that of the rest of us, I implore you to be careful.

Your face is watched as well as your words." "All right, old fellow," he answered, colouring a little.

"You may trust me." "I wish I could," I muttered.
Then we were shown in ceremoniously, and made our bows to Maqueda, who was seated, surrounded by some of the judges and officers, among them, Prince Joshua, and talking to two rough-looking men clad in ordinary brown robes.