On my breast I wore my order of [illegible], and in my
belt my one cherished Terrestrial possession--the sword, reputed the
best in Asia, that had twice driven its point home within a finger's
breadth of my life; and that clove the turban on my brow but a minute
before it was surrendered--just in time to save its gallant owner and
his score of surviving comrades. In its hilt I had set the emerald
with which alone the Commander of the Faithful rewarded my services.
The turban is not so unlike the masculine head-dress of Mars as to
attract any special attention. Re-entering the hall, I was conducted
along a gallery and through another crystal door into the immediate
presence of the Autocrat. The audience chamber was of no extraordinary
size, perhaps one-quarter as large as the peristyle of Esmo's
dwelling. Along the emerald walls ran a series of friezes wrought in
gold, representing various scenes of peace and war, agricultural,
judicial, and political; as well as incidents which, I afterwards
learnt, preserved the memory of the long struggles wherein the
Communists were finally overthrown.
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