rather greater pretensions than its fellows, our guide stopped, and
whispered to us to mount some steps to a raised wooden gallery, which
intervened between the lane and the doorway. On this, besides the door, a
couple of unglazed windows looked out. The shutter of one was ajar, and
showed us a large, bare room, lighted by a couple of rushlights. Directing
us to place ourselves close to this shutter, the innkeeper knocked at the
door in a peculiar fashion, and almost immediately entered, going at once
into the lighted room. Peering cautiously through the window we were
surprised to find that the only person within, save the newcomer, was a
young woman, who, crouching over a smoldering fire, was crooning a lullaby
while she attended to a large black pot.

"Good evening, mistress!" said the innkeeper, advancing to the fire with a
fair show of nonchalance.

"Good evening, Master Andrew," the girl replied, looking up and nodding,
but showing no sign of surprise at his appearance. "Martin is away, but he
may return at any moment."

"Is he still of the same mind?"

"Quite."

"And what of Sully? Is he to die then?" he asked.

"They have decided he must," the girl answered gloomily. It may be
believed that I listened with all my ears, while the king by a nudge in my
side seemed to rally me on the destiny so coolly arranged for me. "Martin
says it is no good killing the other unless he goes too--they have been so
long together. But it vexes me sadly, Master Andrew," she added with a
sudden break in her voice. "Sadly it vexes me. I could not sleep last
night for thinking of it, and the risk Martin runs. And I shall sleep less
when it is done."

"Pooh-pooh!" said that rascally innkeeper. "Think less about it. Things
will grow worse and worse if they are let live. The King has done harm
enough already. And he grows old besides."

"That is true!" said the girl. "And no doubt the sooner he is put out of
the way the better. He is changed sadly. I do not say a word for him. Let
him die. It is killing Sully that troubles me--that and the risk Martin
runs."

At this I took the liberty of gently touching the king. He answered by an
amused grimace; then by a motion of his hand he enjoined silence. We
stooped still farther forward so as better to command the room. The girl
was rocking herself to and fro in evident distress of mind. "If we killed
the King," she continued, "Martin declares we should be no better off, as
long as Sul