may sat in the gardens at Arcadia House. It was the loveliest of
spring days, and there were blossoms everywhere--the vivid pink of the
Judas-tree, the white glory of the dogwood, and each Forsythia bush a
cascade of golden foam. It was all so beautiful, and in that same
measure it hurt so keenly. The girl flung herself face downward in the
grass, seeking to shut out from sight and hearing the world that mocked
her.

That same night Esmay went to Nanna and announced her intention of
paying another visit to the "House of Power."

"Our lord cannot be wholly unmindful of his children," she said, "and
light may come to us from the Shining One. Besides," and here her color
deepened, "it is where he lived, he who was my friend. If I could but
find some little thing that had been his--a glove or one of his books!
Now do be a good Nanna and help me in this."

But the practical Nanna shook her head. "That mad, old graybeard, who
considers it a contamination to even look upon a woman, is it likely
that he will invite you into his sanctuary and set himself to answer
your foolish questions? It is supposed to be sufficient grace for a
woman if the Shining One deigns to accept the gifts that she lays upon
his altar."

"Then we will go dressed as men. There is everything we can want in the
presses up-stairs, and I can steal the key of the wicket gate from out
of Kurt's very pocket. Now, Nanna, dear----"

And of course Nanna yielded, for she saw that her darling's heart was
set upon this thing. Quinton Edge was still absent in the _Black Swan_,
and it would be an easy matter to hoodwink old Kurt; he was always
fuddled with ale nowadays. To-morrow would be Friday, the day of the
weekly sacrifice; they could make the trial then.

It was hard upon noon of the following day when the two women drew near
to the temple of the Shining One. Nanna, clad in doublet and
small-clothes, swung jauntily along, one hand on dagger-hilt and
careless challenge in her snapping, black eyes, the picture of a
swaggering younker. But Esmay, at the last moment, could not bring
herself to don habiliments exclusively masculine. So she compromised by
wearing a round jacket with a rolling collar and tucking away her hair
under a boy's cap. A long rain-coat, for which the showery morning was
an excuse, completed her outward attire and concealed her petticoats
from casual view. Yet in any case her blushes had been spared, for they
met nobody on their way, and