arving man who looks on bread and may not eat. Far better that I
crawl away from haunts of men where I need never be tormented by such
contrasts."
The Jester looked down on Aldebaran's wan face. It was as white and
drawn as if he had been tortured by the rack and thumbscrew, so he made
no answer for the moment. But when the fire was kindled, and they had
supped the broth set out in steaming bowls upon the table, he ventured
on a word of cheer.
"At any rate," he said, "for one whole day thou hast kept thy oath. No
matter what the anguish that it cost thee, from sunrise till sunsetting
thou hast held Despair at bay. It was the bravest stand that thou hast
ever made. And now, if thou hast lived through this one day, why not
another? 'Tis only one hour at a time that thou art called on to endure.
Come! By the bloodstone that is thy birthright, pledge me anew thou'lt
keep thy oath until the going down of one more sun."
So Aldebaran pledged him one more day, and after that another and
another, until a fortnight slowly dragged itself away. And then because
he met his hurt so bravely and made no sign, the Jester thought the
struggle had grown easier with time, and spoke again of going to his
kindred.
"Nay, do not leave me yet," Aldebaran plead. "Wouldst take my only
crutch? It is thy cheerful presence that alone upholds me."
"Yet it would show still greater courage if thou couldst face thy fate
alone," the Jester answered. "Despair cannot be vanquished till thou
hast taught thyself to really feel the gladness thou dost feign. I've
heard that if one will count his blessings as the faithful tell their
rosary beads he will forget his losses in pondering on his many
benefits. Perchance if thou wouldst try that plan it might avail."
So Aldebaran went out determined to be glad in heart as well as speech,
if so be it he could find enough of cheer. "I will be glad," he said,
"because the morning sun shines warm across my face." He slipped a
golden beam upon his memory string.
"I will be glad because that there are diamond sparkles on the grass and
larks are singing in the sky." A dew-drop and a bird's trill for his
rosary.
"I will be glad for bread, for water from the spring, for eyesight and
the power to smell the budding lilacs by the door; for friendly
greetings from the villagers."
A goodly rosary, symbol of all the things for which he should be glad,
was in his hand at close of day. He swung it gaily by the hea
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