ehead as he stood bareheaded before her. "You are a
great lady and I am only an ignorant seaman."

"I do not mean anything of the sort, Ruggiero," said Beatrice quickly,
for she saw that she had unintentionally hurt him, and the thought
pained her strongly. "You speak very well and I have always understood
you perfectly. But you spoke of the King's Children and I could not make
out what they had to do with the story."

"Oh, if it is that, Excellency, I ask your pardon. I do not wonder that
you did not understand. It is my name, Excellency."

"Your name? Still I do not understand---"

"I have no other name but that--dei figli del Re--" said Ruggiero. "That
is all."

"How strange!" exclaimed Beatrice.

"It is the truth, Excellency, and to show you that it is the truth here
is my seaman's license."

He produced a little flat parchment case from his pocket, untied the
thong and showed Beatrice the first page on which, was inscribed his
name in full.

"Ruggiero of the Children of the King, son of the late Ruggiero, native
of Verbicaro, province of Calabria--you see, Excellency. It is the
truth."

"I never doubt anything you say, Ruggiero," said Beatrice quietly.

"I thank you, Excellency," answered the sailor, blushing this time with
pleasure. "For this and all your Excellency's kindness."

What a man he was she thought, as he stood there before her, bareheaded
in the sun-shot shade under the trees, the light playing upon his fair
hair and beard, and his blue eyes gleaming like drops from the sea! What
boys and dwarfs other men looked beside him!

"Do you know how your family came by that strange name, Ruggiero?" she
asked.

"No, Excellency. But they tell so many silly stories about us in
Verbicaro. That is in Calabria where I and my brother were born. And
when our mother, blessed soul, was dying--good health to your
Excellency--she blessed us and said this to us. 'Ruggiero, Sebastiano,
dear sons, you could not save me and I am going. God bless you,' said
she. 'Our Lady help you. Remember, you are the Children of the King.'
Then she said, 'Remember' again, as though she would say something more.
But just at that very moment Christ took her, and she did not speak
again, for she was dead--good health to your Excellency for a thousand
years. And so it was."

"And what happened then?" asked Beatrice, strangely interested and
charmed by the man's simple story.

"Then we beat Don Pietro Casale, Excellency, and