Flor sighed and started forward reluctantly. It was the Earl, himself.
It might be possible to hide from another, but Flor knew better than to
try to conceal his presence from the old nobleman. The Earl could detect
any person in his vicinity, merely by their thoughts, as Flor well knew
from past experience. He also knew how severe the punishment would be if
he failed to present himself immediately. He pushed a branch aside with
a loud rustle.

Startled by the noise, a _husa_, which had been hiding beneath a nearby
bush, raced into the open. The small animal dashed madly toward the
Earl, slid wildly almost under the charger's feet, and put on a fresh
burst of speed, to disappear into the underbrush. The huge beast
flinched away, then reared wildly, dashing his rider's head against a
tree limb.

The elderly man slipped in his saddle, reached shakily for his belt,
missed, and lost his seat, to crash heavily to the ground.

Flor rushed from his thicket. With the shock of the fall, the Earl's
coronet had become dislodged from his head and lay a short distance from
the inert form. Flor picked it up, turning it in his hands and looking
at it.

* * * * *

Curiously, he examined the golden circlet, noting the tiny bosses inset
in the band. Many times, he had watched from a dark corner at the
hunting lodge, neglecting his scullery duties, while the Earl showed the
powers of this coronet to his elder son. Sometimes, he had been caught
by the very powers the circlet gave to the old nobleman, and he winced
as he remembered the strong arm of the kitchen master, and the skill
with which he wielded a strap. But on other occasions, the Earl had been
so engrossed in explaining the device as to neglect the presence of the
eavesdropper.

He had told of the ability given him to read the thoughts of others, and
even to strongly influence their actions. And Flor had gone back to his
labors, to dream of what he would do if he, rather than the Earl, were
the possessor of the powerful talisman.

And now, he had it in his hands.

A daring idea occurred to him, and he looked around furtively. He was
alone with the Earl. The old man was breathing stertorously, his mouth
wide open. His face was darkening, and the heavy jowls were becoming
purple. Obviously, he was capable of little violence.

In sudden decision, Flor knelt beside the body. His hand, holding the
short club above the Earl's throat, trembled