The light, instead of
being a bright glare, was soft and mellow, and fell from crescent-shaped
lanterns on the staffs of pages, who moved in a measured way among the
throng, producing a kaleidoscopic effect.
Leo watched them with eager eyes. Beautiful as the sight was, he yet was
oppressed with fear, for he knew not how to reveal himself to these
sportive beings, and he could not imagine how he should ever be released
from his imprisonment.
Suddenly the dancers fled as if pursued, the music became martial, and
the steady tramp of a host of elves was heard. They were clad in mail,
with helmets and shields of flashing steel, and armed with glittering
lances; half of them had blue plumes and half had crimson. And now began
their mimic warfare. Ranged line upon line, facing each other, with
shouts and drum beats and bugle blasts, they fell upon each other in the
fury of combat. Swords clashed, javelins were hurled, and the slain fell
in heaps; but still the leaders charged, and still the martial blasts
were heard; and over and over were repeated the manoeuvres of the
advance, the retreat, the parrying of blows, the redoubled ardor of
assault, until Leo's breath came short and hard with the excitement of
the scene. It seemed a veritable battle-field, and to add to the glamour
rays as of moonbeams, shone now and again clouded by the shadows of an
approaching storm.
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