ew bright with excitement as he
glanced from the soldier's face to the blade glittering across his palm,
and seeming to laugh in the wintry sunshine.

"Well, it was an old armorer in Ghent for whom I had done some service
in protecting his daughter and saving some mails which my men would have
plundered, and the old man was more grateful than need be, and came one
night to my lodgings bringing this sword wrapped in his mantle, to offer
me as a gift, for he said he would not sell it, valuing it above all
price."

"And still you would have him take a price," suggested Alden exultantly,
but Standish answered gently,--

"Nay, John, that is but poor pride that cannot allow another to be its
benefactor. I took the old man's gift and thanked him heartily. Later
on, as chance befell, I did him a good turn in a contract for arms,
while he knew it not. But that is beside the matter, which is the sword.
He told me, that old man did, a story fit to set in the ancient romaunts
of chivalry, how he as a young fellow full of heart and lustihood went
out to fight the Turks or some other heathen of those parts, and was a
prisoner, and a lady loved him and he loved her not, having a sweetheart
waiting for him at home. And she had a noble heart and forgave him his
despite, and set him free at risk of her own life, nor gave him freedom
only, but a purse of gold and this sword, which she averred had been
captured from the Persian people hundreds of years before, and was a
true Damascus blade forged from meteor iron, and of the curious
tempering now forgotten. And she said, moreover, that there was a charm
upon it that made him who carried it invincible and scathless, and she,
poor maid, had robbed her father's house of this great treasure, and
brought it to him who loved another woman better than her, and so with
tears and smiles she gave it over, and he for very ruth gave her a
tender kiss, and thus they parted."

"Nay, I pity her not. She was overbold to offer her love before it had
been asked," said Alden hastily.

"Ah, boy, thou 'rt in all the hardness of thy callow youth, and nought's
more hard. Wait some fifteen years till thou comest to my age, and
thou 'lt pity the poor heathen maid as I do to-day. Well, my armorer
took the sword and played it some forty years or more, and then, too old
to wield arms, he took to dealing in them, but never sold this, for it
had proved all that the lady claimed for it, and had slain his enemies,