to keep all danger from
thee. Pray to God nightly, the dear God of Whom I have tried to teach
thee; keep thy hands from blood, thy body from wanton sin, and thy
tongue from guile. So shalt thou be pure and thy tales prosper; for
untainted fruit never blossomed from a dunghill. Remember that the Lord
loveth all his creatures even the same as he loveth thee. As thou hast
good and evil both within thee, so have others; wherefore judge them in
mercy as thou wouldst thyself. And judge thyself in sternness as thou
wouldst them; so shalt thou keep the balance true. Now thou art sleeping
through my preaching--well, never mind! Kiss thy mother, dear one, and I
will go."

She descended the ladder; and Nicanor's voice came sleepily muffled
through the straw.

"All the same I shall be great--greater than that old man who was before
me--greater than kings--greater than any who shall come after--"

He slept, and the moonlight streamed upon him in a flood of silver.

And below, at Rathumus' side, lay Susanna, the mother, and stared
wide-eyed and wakeful through the darkness.

II

Nicanor sat beside the fire, his hands clasping his knees, his eyes
glowing in the ruddy leaping of the flames. Around him on the moor
squatted a band of belated roving shepherds, who from all the country
round were bringing their flocks to fold for the Winter. About the fire,
at discreet intervals, the sheep were herded, each flock by itself.
Around every huddle a black figure circled, staff in hand, hushing
wakeful disturbers into peace. The shepherds ringing the fire sprawled
carelessly; uncouth rough men with shaggy beards and keen eyes, their
features thrown into sharp relief against the light. Farther off, small
groups, close-sitting, cast dice upon a sheepskin with muttered growls
of laughter. The musky smell of the animals tinged the first chill of
Autumn which hung in the air. Around them the moor stretched away, vast
and silent, broken into ridges filled with impenetrable shadows until it
melted into the mystery of the night. Over the world's darkness a
slender moon, sharp-horned, wandered through rifting clouds.

Nicanor's voice rose and fell with the crackling flames. His eyes
gleamed, his face quivered; the men within hearing hung upon his
words. Gradually the dicers' laughter died; one by one they left
their clusters and joined the circle at the fire. Nicanor saw, and
his heart swelled high. This was what he loved,--to fare forth at
n