epers of the
inns, were the only ones who lived upon the Bramble Isle. All others
came and went, and never stayed save for a night.

Day after day came craftsmen, traders of all kinds, merchants with
bundles of hides on pack-horses to be shipped at Dubrae; mimes, actors,
musicians, jugglers. Crested-helmeted cohorts, with glancing shields and
bristling spears, splashed through the fords on their way south, stern
dark-faced men from many nations. Long strings of slaves, who then as
later formed so large a part of Britain's export trade, were marched
with clanking chains along the highways. Always was color, life,
movement, the clamor of voices, the rumble of wheels; a constant stir,
ceaseless, pulsing, feverish.

It was small wonder, then, that Nicanor, alive in every fibre of his
eager being, thirsting for adventure, should escape from the workshop's
confinement as often as might be, to watch and wonder at the passing
show. Also it was small wonder that Master Tobias did not like such
rovings of his pupil, and openly disapproved. With reason he argued that
if a man would make his work worth while he must stick to his bench and
tools. But Nicanor, at such times, cared little whether or not he made
that work worth while. At his bench he was restless, fretting to be
gone. Only outside, amid hurrying men and the confusion of arrival and
departure, was he at peace, entirely happy and content. And this was but
natural, since young dogs strain always at the leash, and as his fate
had written. But this, Master Tobias, bound heart and soul to his
beloved task, could not understand.

Being both fiery, they clashed often, when dire confusion followed. Upon
these occasions, Master Tobias, purple with wrath, brandished his burin
and raved. Nicanor was an ingrate; Nicanor was a fool and a
good-for-naught, who deserved everlasting punishment and would surely
get it. And Nicanor, white-hot within and silent,--two years before he
would have screamed with rage like any other infuriate young wild
thing,--laid aside his tools and left the work-room, his head in air,
his jaws set like steel to a thin smile, his wrath blazing all the
fiercer for being dumb. Not until he found himself with a circle of
gaping faces around him, hanging on his words, would his anger cool and
his world right itself to normal. Then, his steam worked off, himself
peaceful and serene, he would return to the house for supper, meet
Master Tobias's menacing growls w