power, the power that had made three kings as wax between
his fingers! But just short of the fire-glow the Gainer paused, and the
hooded cloak which shrouded him merged him hopelessly into the shadow.
Only the hand that rested on his sword-hilt protruded into the light.
It was a broad hand, and thick-fingered as a butcher's, but it was
milk-white and weighted with massive rings.

Meanwhile, the King was speaking affably: "As you did not favor us with
your presence among the Wise Men, my lord, it is likely that you do not
know of the good luck which has befallen our cause. This prudent Earl,
who before the battle had concluded with himself that England had so
little to hope for from our reign that he was willing to throw his
weight against us, has found his victory so without relish that he has
become our sworn ally."

As he paused,--perhaps to leave space for an answer,--the complacency of
his face was heightened by a smile, faintly shrewd, touching the
corners of his mouth. But when Sebert limited his reply to a respectful
inclination of his head, the smile vanished abruptly. Under the
affability there became evident a certain stern insistence.

"In former days, I think there was some hostile temper between the Earl
and you. But I expect you will see that under the stress of a foreign
war all lesser strife must give way. So I desire that you will repeat in
my presence the troth already plighted by these others."

He made a slight gesture, and the Gainer took a step forward. The light
that fell back from his hooded face played curiously about his jewelled
hand; as it rose from the gilded hilt, it could be seen that to remedy
the bluntness of the thick fingers the nails had been allowed to grow
very long, which gave it now, in its half-curve, the look of a claw,
upon which the red gems shone like blood-drops.

Hesitating, the Etheling went from red to white. Then, with a swift
motion, he unsheathed his sword and stretched it out, point-foremost.

"King Edmund," he said, "in no other way does my hand go forth toward a
traitor."

This time there was no sound of breaths drawn in; it was as though the
whole world had ceased breathing. The sternness that had underlain
the King's manner rose slowly and spread over the whole surface of his
person, as he drew himself up in towering offence.

"Lord of Ivarsdale, bethink yourself to whom you speak!"

He was royally imposing in his displeasure; the Etheling flushed like