honest," Randalin answered, and
again there was a little wildness in her laugh, "but I should have gone
stone-mad if she had not come." Yet, as her horse commenced to bear her
forward once more, she consented to speak more encouragingly across
the widening space. "If his humor is right, it may be that nothing
disagreeable will happen. She is very fair to look at,--it may be that
his mind will change at the sight of her. Think that you will sleep in
the Palace to-night."

Catching this last phrase, as her Valkyria came abreast of her, Elfgiva
spoke pettishly: "You see fit to sing a different tune from what you
did when you tried to hinder me from this undertaking. I should have
brighter hopes if I had not given ear to your advice to send a messenger
ahead. If I could have come upon him before he had time to work himself
into a hostile temper--"

Her attention wandered as a couple of tipsy soldiers elbowed themselves
between the guards only to catch a nearer glimpse of her face, after
which they allowed themselves to be thrust back, shouting drunken toasts
to her beauty.

"Is it your wish that I help you to lower your hood, lady?" the Danish
girl made offer.

Elfgiva's half smile deepened into a laugh. "Not so, not so!" she
said. "What! Have you seen so much of war and battle axes that you have
forgotten the ways that are pleasing to men? Yet methinks you must needs
have taken notice that, always before he goes into battle, a soldier
tests the sharpness of his weapon. It is to that end that I endure the
gaze of these serfs,--to test the power of my face."

"It would not be unadvisable for you to whet your wits as well," Frode's
daughter muttered scornfully, and somewhat rashly, since Elfgiva's wits
had been sharp enough to guess the significance of her hand-maiden's
interview with the young English noble, and the knowledge had given her
a weapon which she was skilful in using.

"Has the sharpness of your mind brought you so much success then, my
sweet?" she inquired with her faultless smile; and had the satisfaction
of seeing her rebel shrink into silence like a child before a rod.

The crowding of the highway became more noticeable as they neared the
point where the Watling Street swerved from its old course, toward the
ford and the little Isle of Thorns, to bend eastward toward the New
Gate. Some obstruction at the forking of the roads impeded their
progress almost to a walk. After a brief experience of it, Elf