ight and come upon such a crowd of drovers, or it might be wood-cutters
or charcoal burners; to begin his chant abruptly, in the midst of
conversation; to see his listeners draw close and closer, gazing
wide-eyed, half in awe; to move them to laughter or to tears, as
suited him; to sway them as the marsh winds swayed the reeds. At
times, when this sense of power shook him, he took a savage delight
in seeing them turn, one to another, great bearded men, sobbing,
gasping for breath, striving for self-control,--simple-hearted
children of moor and forest, whose emotions he could mould as a
potter moulds his clay. He could have laughed aloud, he could have
sung for sheer joy and triumph, to watch this thing. Again, he would
make them shiver at his tales of the world of darkness--shiver and
glance from side to side into the outer blackness, with eyes gleaming
white in the firelight. For it was a superstitious age, in which
every field, every hearth-stone, had its presiding genius for good or
ill; and there were many things of which men spoke with bated breath
and two fingers out.

Nicanor ended his chant:

"So this man died, being unpunished, and went away into a great country
which was a field of flowers. And in the midst of the field was a city
wherein the man would enter. But even as he walked through this field of
flowers, he saw that out of the flowers ran blood, and the flowers spoke
and cried out upon him because of that thing which he had done when he
was upon the earth. And the man was sorely frightened."

There was a mutter and a stir among the crowd. A black bulk heaved
itself up between Nicanor and the firelight, and a swollen voice cried
out:

"Now by Christ His cross, how comes it that this snipe of a stripling
may speak from his mouth of what lieth beyond the grave? For this is
death, and death is a matter concerning Holy Church alone. By what right
doth he tell us of what she says no mortal may know?"

Cries from his mates interrupted.

"Nay, Rag; shut thy gaping mouth and leave the lad in peace! And so--and
so--what then befell this wicked man, son?"

But Rag was not minded to be put aside so lightly.

"I say 'tis wrong!" he bawled. "No man, without warrant, may thus blab
of what goeth on beyond the grave!"

A voice seconded him from the outer ring, but dubiously.

"I think the Saxon right! How may we know if this lad speaks true of
that which comes to pass hereafter? Boy, what earnest canst give