atching his bullethead, his
child-like, widespread eyes smiling the question.

"There be now four winds--the North wind and his sisters, the East, the
West, and South. When God sends a Fifth wind, then conspirators shall
wear crowns. Till then Delicio shall sow and I shall reap, as is
Heaven's will."

Lempriere lay back and roared with laughter. "Before Belial, there never
was such another as thou, fool. Conspirators shall die and not prevail,
for a man may not marry his sister, and the North wind shall have no
progeny. So there shall be no Fifth wind."

"Proved, proved," cried the fool. "The North wind shall go whistle for a
mate--there shall be no Fifth wind. So, Delicio shall still sail by the
compass, and shall still compass all, and yet be compassed by none; for
it is written, Who compasseth Delicio existeth not."

Buonespoir watched a lark soaring, as though its flight might lead
him through the fool's argument clearly. Lempriere closed his eye, and
struggled with it, his lips outpursed, his head sunk on his breast.
Suddenly his eyes opened, he brought the bottle of canary down with
a thud on the turf. "'Fore Michael and all angels, I have it, fool;
I travel, I conceive. De Carteret of St. Ouen's must have gone to the
block ere conceiving so. I must conceive thus of the argument. He who
compasseth the Queen existeth not, for compassing, he dieth."

"So it is by the hour-glass and the fortune told in the porringer. You
have conceived like a man, Nuncio."

"And conspirators, I conceive, must die, so long as there be honest men
to slay them," rejoined the Seigneur.

"Must only honest men slay conspirators? Oh, Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego!" wheezed Buonespoir with a grin. He placed his hand upon
his head in self-pity. "Buonespoir, art thou damned by muscadella?" he
murmured.

"But thou art purged of the past, Bono Publico," answered the fool.
"Since Delicio hath looked upon thee she hath shredded the Tyburn lien
upon thee--thou art flushed like a mountain spring; and conspirators
shall fall down by thee if thou, passant, dost fall by conspirators
in the way. Bono Publico, thou shalt live by good company. Henceforth
contraband shall be spurned and the book of grace opened."

Buonespoir's eyes laughed like a summer sky, but he scratched his head
and turned over the rose-stem in his mouth reflectively. "So be it,
then, if it must be; but yesterday the Devon sea-sweeper, Francis Drake,
overhauled me in my c