Part 23

"Nay, I ask nothing for nothing. I know it is the world's way to bargain in this iron age, and that none will give save for value. But I am wise in the earliest wisdom--I can tell you tales, sing you songs, read the secrets of the stars, the signs in your hands. I will tell any man here his fortune if he will pay for fate with a part of my armament."

A buzz of interest hummed among her hearers, and Jaufre de Brabant sprang eagerly forward.

"Can you do this?" he asked. "What are the signs in my palms?" and he thrust his strong hands out to the shepherd.

The dryad turned to the lord-marshal.

"Lord," she said, "I pray you to beg of these gentlemen that they give me a little space. A man's fortune is for his own ears."

"The lad is right," said Ernault. "Room, friends, room," and with a sweep of his marshal's wand he widened the circle about him to the evident discomfort of the crowd outside, who were thus forced rudely against the wall or uncomfortably out of ear-shot and eye-witness. Argathona, thus left in a sense alone with Jaufre, though many eyes were curiously fixed upon the pair, took the hands of the knight in hers and peered into his palms.

"Glory," she began, "glory, glory; a lifetime shining like a star."

"I will give you a sword for this glory," he said, and paused; then he asked again, quickly, "And what of my death-time?"

Argathona looked no more into his hands; she looked steadfastly into his wild eyes.

"I think you will sink like a star in the peace of old age."

The face of Jaufre clouded.

"I would have picked a fiercer finish," he sighed; "but you shall have the sword."

"I thank your valiancy," Argathona said; and Jaufre, turning from her, rejoined his companions. Before Count Ernault could signify which knight should next have speech with the shepherd, Sir Guy de Hainault had sprung from the marshal's side and approached her.

"Read the page of my palm," he cried, pushing out his fine, white hands impatiently.

Argathona held them for a moment, glanced at their smooth surface, and let them fall with a sigh, looking gravely at the girlish face of the knight.

"Speak!" cried Sir Guy. "Why do you hesitate?"

Argathona spoke in a low voice.

"Death is near at hand," she said.

No change came over the delicate face of the knight.

"How?" he asked, as quietly as he might have asked the hour for supper.

"Bravely--in battle," Argathona answered.

Sir Guy struck his hands together exultingly.

"You merit a princely gift for that promise. What will you have of me?"

"Will you give me a helmet?" asked the shepherd.

"You shall have a golden helmet," Sir Guy promised. "What is your crest?"

And the shepherd answered, remembering with a smile the heraldic wisdom of Simon:

"An oak-tree with acorns."

Sir Guy saluted Eleusis and turned and joined his fellows.