on a Holy Eve."

"Aye," he responded, "but that was a matter of courage, too. There were
many strange noises. Also, in the middle of the night came Our Lady
herself and said to me: 'Hereafter thou shalt sing with the voice of an
angel.'"

"I should like to see Our Lady," said the child wistfully.

"Also," pursued the Fool, "She gave me power over great beasts. See! He
fears me, while he loves me."

And indeed there seemed some curious kinship between the horse and the
lad, perhaps because the barrier of keen human mind was not between
them.

"Think you," said the little maid, "if I slept where you did She would
appear to me? I would not ask much, only to be made a lad like you, and,
perhaps, to sing."

"But I am a simpleton. Instead of wit I have but a voice and now--a
horse."

"A lad like you," she persisted, "so that my father would love me and my
mother might come back again?"

"Better stay as you are," said the Fool. "Also, there will be no Holy
Eve again for a long time. It comes but once a year. Also it is hard
times for men who must either fight or work in the fields. I--" He
struck his chest. "I shall do neither. And I shall cut no more wood. I
go adventuring."

Clotilde rose and drew her grey cloak around her.

"I am adventuring, too," she said. "Only I have no voice and no horse.
May I go with you?"

The boy was doubtful. He had that innate love and tenderness that is
given to his kind instead of other things. But a child!

"I will take you," he said at last, rather heavily. "But where, little
lady?"

"To my mother at the castle of Black Philip." And when his face
fell--for Philip was not named The Black only for his beard--

"She loves singing. I will ask you to sing before her."

That decided him. He took her before him on the grey horse and they set
off, two valiant adventurers, a troubadour and a lady, without food or
sufficient clothing, but with high courage and a song.

And because it was the Truce of God the children went unharmed,
encountering no greater adventure than hunger and cold and aching
muscles. Robbers sulked in their fastnesses, and their horses pawed the
ground. Murder, rapine and pillage slept that Christmas day, under the
shelter of the cross.

The Fool, who ached for adventure, rather resented the peace.

"Wait until Monday," he said from behind her on the horse. "I shall show
you great things."

But the little maid was cold by that time and beginning to be
fr