* * *

The fighting had begun again; no man could say why or how. True, the
Doomsmen had been disheartened by the fall of their champion, but they
were not yet ready to yield themselves; they had retreated to the
shelter of the interior barricade, and would make there a final stand.
The Stockaders, flushed with anticipated triumph, drove blindly,
recklessly at the barrier. Constans felt the blood singing in his ears,
then a weight suddenly lifted from his brain; his eyes cleared and the
fierce joy of conflict captured him. He forced his way to the front,
gaining foothold on the barricade. Ten feet away stood Quinton Edge,
and Constans's heart was glad. At last!

A hand caught at the skirt of his doublet, and impatiently he jerked
himself loose. Again the detaining grasp; he bent down to strike and
looked into Ulick's eyes. Obedient to the unspoken request, he knelt
down and tried to move his friend into a more comfortable position. The
crushed chest sank horribly under his hands, and he was obliged to give
over.

"Close to me," whispered Ulick, and Constans bent his head to listen.

"It is of Esmay," he said. "Nanna but just now told me--a
prisoner--Arcadia House--you will go to her?"

"Yes," said Constans.

But Ulick had followed the direction of his eyes and seen that they
rested on Quinton Edge.

"At once; it must be now--else too late."

Constans did not answer.

"Now!" reiterated Ulick, insistently.

"I cannot."

"Yes."

"I will not."

"Yes."

Constans's voice was hard; he rose to his feet.

"I have been waiting upon this chance for years--you do not understand."

"Yes--I understand."

"All along; it was you who loved her."

"But you--whom she loved."

"No," said Constans, sullenly.

"It is--true."

"No!" again cried Constans. Then, suddenly, it seemed that a great
light shone about him. But the wonder of it lay not in this new
knowledge of Esmay's heart, but in the revelation of his own. He loved
her, he knew it now, and not as in that brief moment of passion at
Arcadia, when even honor seemed well lost. For this was the greater love
that draws a man to the one woman in the world who has the power to lift
him to the heights whereon she herself stands. A supreme joy, that
humbled even while it exalted, swept over Constans. "I will go," he
said, and took Ulick's hand in both his own.

The storm-centre of the fighting had moved away from them; above their
heads the st