tood
with linked hands for a little while in silence, looking out over the
sea. Then she turned again to where the fool crouched, and spoke to him
softly.

"Are all court folk like you?"

Diogenes lifted his head, and the old malignity glittered in his eyes.

"Ay, in the souls; but for the most part they have smooth bodies."

He watched the girl closely while her eyes again sought the sea and came
back and met the fool's gaze.

"Is the King like you?" she questioned.

The fool unhuddled himself and leaped to his feet, snapping his fingers
in fantastic imprecation.

"My soul is as the soul of a sucking babe by his wicked soul; but, as
for his body, the imperious gods who mock us have given him a most
exquisite outside, the case of an angel masking a devil."

He raged into silence, but his mouth still worked hideously, as if his
hate were fumbling for words it could not find. The girl gave a great
sigh.

"I did not know there were such men in the world," she said. The fool
stared at her in amaze.

"Then you must have seen few men," he grunted.

"I have seen few men," the girl answered, sadly--"my father, who is old,
and the timid country folk, and the holy brothers of the church. Of men
from the valley, from the city, I have seen but two--you and one other."
She paused for a moment, thoughtfully, and then went on with a swell of
exultation in her voice--"and that other was not like you."

The fool drew nearer to her, eagerly, apish curiosity goading him. "Who
was my fellow?" he asked of the girl, who, with averted head, seemed as
one who dreams waking. Dreamily she answered:

"One dewy morning a week ago I met a hunter in these happy woods." She
closed her eyes for a moment as if the memory was sweet to her and she
wished to shut it away from the staring fool.

"Humph!" said Diogenes. "In the days of Robert the Good men might not
hunt in these forests."

Perpetua looked at Diogenes again with bright eyes of scorn.

"King Robert was gentle with beast as with man. But this hunter did not
seem cruel. Like you, he was tired; like you, he was thirsty. I showed
him where a spring of sweet water bubbled."

"What was his outer seeming?" Diogenes asked. Somewhat of a warmer color
touched the girl's cheeks.

"My father has told me tales of the ancient heroes. I think he was
blessed with all the comeliness and goodliness of the Golden Age."

Diogenes jeered at her enthusiasm with his voice, with his eyes, wit