ed. He sang in a gravelly voice, pausing now and then to remember a
new verse.

Flor watched him as he approached, allowing the man's thoughts to enter
his own consciousness. They were none too complicated. The man was a
free swordsman, his sword unemployed at the moment. He still had
sufficient money to enjoy the forest houses for a time, then he would
seek service with the Earl of Konewar, who was rumored to be planning a
campaign.

The man swayed closer, finally noticing Flor. He paused in mid stride,
eying the escaped serf up and down.

"Now, here's something strange indeed," he mused. He looked closely at
Flor's face.

"Tell me, my fellow, tell me this: How is it you wear the belt and
coronet of a great noble, and yet have no other garment than the shift
of a serf?"

As Flor looked at him insolently, he drew his sword.

"Come," he demanded impatiently, "I must have answer, else I take you to
a provost. Possibly his way of finding your secret would be to your
liking, eh?"

Flor drew a deep breath and waited. Here was the final test of his new
device. He had experimented, finding that even the charge of a _khada_
was harmless to him. Now, he would find if a sword could be rendered
harmless. At the approach of the man, he had pressed the boss on his
belt. The man seemed suddenly a little uncertain, so Flor spoke.

"Why, who are you," he demanded haughtily, "to question the doings of
your betters? Away with you, before I spit you with your own sword."

The man shook his head, smiling sarcastically. "Hah!" he said,
approaching Flor. "I know that accent. It stinks of the scullery. Tell
me, Serf, where did you steal that----"

He broke off, climaxing his question with an abrupt swing of the sword.
Then, he fell back in surprise. Flor had thrust a hand out to ward off
the blow, and the sword had been thrown back violently. The rebound tore
it from its amazed owner's hand, and it thudded to the ground. The
man-at-arms looked at it stupidly.

Flor sprang aside, scooping up the weapon before the man could recover.

"Now," he cried, "stand quite still. I shall have business with you."

The expression on the man's face told of something more than mere
surprise which held him quiet. Here was proof of the powers of the
coronet. Flor looked savagely at his captive.

"Take off your cap."

Reluctantly, the man's hand came up. He removed his steel cap, holding
it in his hand as he faced his captor.

"That is fine