The form, the
dress, the long white hair and beard, the grave, dignified
countenance, above all the deep, scrutinising, piercing eyes of the
Founder--as I had seen them on a single occasion in Esmo's house--were
now as clearly, as forcibly, presented to my sight as any figure in
the flesh I ever beheld. The eyes were turned on me with a calm,
searching, steady gaze, whose effect was such as Southey ascribes to
Indra's:--
"The look he gave was solemn, not severe;
No hope to Kailyal it conveyed,
And yet it struck no fear."
For a moment they rested on Eveena's veiled and drooping figure with a
widely different expression. That look, as I thought, spoke a grave
but passionless regret or pity, as of one who sees a child
unconsciously on the verge of peril or sorrow that admits neither of
warning nor rescue. That look happily she did not read; but we both
saw the same object and in the same instant; we both stood amazed and
appalled long enough to render our hesitation not only apparent, but
striking to all around, many of whom, following the direction of my
gaze, turned their eyes upon the Throne.
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