carving that David did, working little by little
in the long winter nights at the piece of wood that came from the pirate
ship. The carving is of a man standing on the shore of the sea, and
holding up a lantern in his hand, and on the sea is carved a ship. And
David calls his carving "The Light of the World." At the top of it is a
scroll, with the words thereon, "He shall send down from on high to
fetch me, and shall take me out of many waters." And beneath is another
scroll on which is graven, "Thou also shalt light my candle; the Lord my
God shall make my darkness to be light."

* * * * *

The Waving of the Sword

The things that are set down here happened in the ancient days when
there was sore fighting in the land; the king, who was an unjust man,
fighting to maintain his realm, and the barons fighting for the law; and
the end was not far off, for the king was driven backwards to the sea,
and at last could go no further; so he gathered all the troops that he
might in a strong fort that lay in the midst of the downs, where the
hills dipped to the plain to let the river pass through; and the barons
drew slowly in upon him, through the forest in the plain. Beyond the
downs lay the sea, and there in a little port was gathered the king's
navy, that if the last fight went ill with him, as indeed he feared it
would, he might fly for safety to another land.

Now in a house below the down, a few miles from the king's stronghold,
dwelt a knight that was neither old nor young, and his name was Sir
Henry Strange. He lived alone and peevishly, and he did neither good nor
evil. He had no skill in fighting, but neither had he skill in peaceful
arts. He had tried many things and wearied of all. He had but a small
estate, which was grown less by foolish waste. He could have made it
into a rich heritage, for his land was good. But he had no patience with
his men, and confused them by his orders, which he would not see carried
out. Sometimes he would fell timber, and then leave it to rot in the
wood; or he would plough a field, and sow it not. At one time he had a
fancy to be a minstrel, but he had not patience to attain to skill; he
would write a ballad and leave it undone; or he would begin to carve a
figure of wood, and toss it aside; sometimes he would train a dog or a
horse; but he would so rage if the beast, being puzzled for all its
goodwill, made mistakes, that it grew frightene