ld man made a movement as though to rise. Two of the attendants
attempted to assist him, but he waved them back. Ah, the wonder of it as
that huge bulk reared itself to full height! An ordinary man might stand
comfortably under his out-stretched arm and barely join the tips of his
fingers in measuring around the monster's girth. But there was more than
mere bigness with which to reckon. The close observer might notice that
his armpits and the corresponding parts under the knee were not hollow,
as is ordinarily the case, but were filled with a solid mass of muscle
and tendon. And this was Dom Gillian, with the weight of ninety-odd
years upon his back. What manner of man must he have been in the noonday
of his strength!

As though by common consent the conflict came to an abrupt end; the two
lines drew apart and silence fell between them. Dom Gillian took two or
three forward steps. He seemed to be uncertain of where to plant his
feet, as is the natural consequent when one has not walked for a long
time; but once squarely set, he stood solidly--like a column of masonry.
The bent shoulders had straightened up and the chest had filled out;
there was no evidence of decrepitude in the ease with which he
manipulated his ponderous mace, swinging it from side to side in great,
slow circles. Only Constans noticed that he kept his head turned
constantly in one direction, where there was a great flare of light, a
dozen cressets and link-torches burning together. Could it be that his
eyesight had failed save for the mere distinction between light and
darkness? It might be well to know surely, and, stepping down from his
vantage-point, Constans forced his way to the front. Quinton Edge was
speaking, and Constans listened with the rest.

"If there is one among you," he said, with smooth distinctness, "who
thinks himself a man, let him stand forth and make answer to our father,
Dom Gillian, face to face, so that our lord may particularly inquire
concerning these dogs of Stockaders who dare to show a naked blade in
the inmost citadel of Doom the Forbidden. You have tracked the gray wolf
to his lair, now send you out a gallant who will clip his claws."

Constans, intent upon his theory, noticed that Dom Gillian had turned
his head in the direction of Quinton Edge's voice when he first began to
speak, but almost immediately his attention had flagged and his eyes had
wandered back to the lights. Now, as Quinton Edge stopped, the old man's