d led a retired life with his mother, who
ardently loved her only son.

No one visited them in the tower except the laughing Matheline, the
heiress of the tenant of Coat-Dor and god-daughter of Josserande; and
Pol Bihan, son of the successor of Martin Ker as armed keeper of the
great door.

Both Pol and Matheline often conversed together, and upon what subject
do you think? Always of Sylvestre Ker. Was it because they loved him?
No. What Matheline loved most was her own fair self, and Pol Bihan's
best friend was named Pol Bihan.

Matheline passed long hours before her little mirror of polished steel,
which faithfully reflected her laughing mouth full of pearls; and Pol
was proud of his great strength, for he was the best wrestler in the
Carnac country. When they spoke of Sylvestre Ker, it was to say, "What
if some fine morning he should find the secret of the fairy-stone that
is the mother of gold!"

And each one mentally added,--

"I must continue to be friendly with him, for if he becomes wealthy he
will enrich me."

Josserande also knew that her beloved son sought after the fairy-stone,
and even had mentioned it to Gildas the Wise, who shook his venerable
head and said,--

"What God wills will be. Be careful that your son wears a mask over his
face when he seeks the cursed thing; for what escapes from the crucible
is Satan's breath, and the breath of Satan causes blindness."

Josserande, meditating upon these words, went to kneel before the cross
of St. Cado, which is in front of the seventh stone of Caesar's
camp,--the one that a little child can move by touching it with his
finger, but that twelve horses harnessed to twelve oxen cannot stir from
its solid foundation. Thus prostrate, she prayed: "O Lord Jesus! Thou
who hast mercy for mothers on account of the Holy Virgin, Thy mother,
watch well over my little Sylvestre, and take from his head this thought
of making gold. Nevertheless, if it is Thy will that he should be rich,
Thou art the Master of all things, my sweet Saviour!"

And as she rose she murmured: "What a beautiful boy he would be with a
cloak of fine cloth and a hood bordered with fur, if he only had means
to buy them."

III.

It came to pass that as all these young people, Pol Bihan, Matheline,
and Sylvestre Ker, gained a year each time that twelve months rolled by,
they reached the age to think of marriage; and Josserande, one morning,
proceeded to the dwelling of the farmer of Coat-D