of
wild song. But it was many a long moment before the silence that hovered
over the doomed Tower was broken by any sound but the measured tramp of
the sentinels.

It was Sebert who brought the dragging pace finally to a halt, throwing
himself upon a stone bench to hold his head in his hands. "We cannot
drive them off; that needs no further proof. And I do not see how we can
hold out till the time that chance entices them away, when but one meal
stands between us and starvation, and already we are as weak as rabbits.
Naught can profit us save craft."

The dark head beside him shook hopelessly; but he repeated the verdict
with additional emphasis. "I tell you, craft is our only hope; some
artfulness that shall undermine their strength even as their tricks
crept, snake-like, under our guard." Turning in his seat, he set his
face toward the darkness, clutching his head in renewed effort.

No word came from the page, but a strange look was dawning in his
upturned face. Whether it was a great terror that had shaken his soul or
whether a joy had come to him that raised him to heaven itself, it was
impossible to tell, for the signs of both were in his eyes. And when at
last he spoke, both thrilled through his voice. "Lord," he said slowly,
"I think I see where a trick is possible."

As Sebert turned from the darkness, the boy struggled up and stood
before him. "If they could be made to believe a lie about the food? If
they could be made to believe that you have enough to continue this for
a long time? Their natures are such that already it must have become a
hardship for them to remain quiet."

The Etheling's eyes were riveted on the other's lips; his every muscle
strained toward him. Under the stimulus the page's words seemed to come
a little less uncertainly, a little more quickly.

"I think I could manage it for you, lord. They think me your unwilling
captive: you remember what the messenger said about freeing me? If I
should go to Rothgar--" his voice broke and his eyes sought his friend's
eyes as though they were wine-cups from which he would drink courage--
"if I should go to Rothgar, lord, I could declare myself escaped, and he
would be likely to believe any story I told him."

Sebert leaped up and caught the lad by the shoulders, then hesitated,
weighing it in his mind, half fearing to believe. "But are you sure that
your tongue will not trip you? Or your face, poor mouse? What! Can you
make them believe in abu