continued, "when she speaks to a man who has
no wife of his own about her love for another man then she is disliked."

"I would not be disliked by you," Becuma murmured.

"Nevertheless," said he regally, "I will not come between a woman and
her choice."

"I did not know you lacked a wife," said Becuma, but indeed she did.

"You know it now," the king replied sternly.

"What shall I do?" she inquired, "am I to wed you or your son?"

"You must choose," Conn answered.

"If you allow me to choose it means that you do not want me very badly,"
said she with a smile.

"Then I will not allow you to choose," cried the king, "and it is with
myself you shall marry."

He took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Lovely is this pale thin hand. Lovely is the slender foot that I see in
a small bronze shoe," said the king.

After a suitable time she continued:

"I should not like your son to be at Tara when I am there, or for a year
afterwards, for I do not wish to meet him until I have forgotten him and
have come to know you well."

"I do not wish to banish my son," the king protested.

"It would not really be a banishment," she said. "A prince's duty could
be set him, and in such an absence he would improve his knowledge both
of Ireland and of men. Further," she continued with downcast eyes,
"when you remember the reason that brought me here you will see that his
presence would be an embarrassment to us both, and my presence would be
unpleasant to him if he remembers his mother."

"Nevertheless," said Conn stubbornly, "I do not wish to banish my son;
it is awkward and unnecessary."

"For a year only," she pleaded.

"It is yet," he continued thoughtfully, "a reasonable reason that you
give and I will do what you ask, but by my hand and word I don't like
doing it."

They set out then briskly and joyfully on the homeward journey, and in
due time they reached Tara of the Kings.

CHAPTER IV

It is part of the education of a prince to be a good chess player, and
to continually exercise his mind in view of the judgements that he will
be called upon to give and the knotty, tortuous, and perplexing matters
which will obscure the issues which he must judge. Art, the son of Conn,
was sitting at chess with Cromdes, his father's magician.

"Be very careful about the move you are going to make," said Cromdes.

"CAN I be careful?" Art inquired. "Is the move that you are thinking of
in my power?"

"It is not," the othe