h a deeper
awe than the boldest warrior would have called forth: and they bore him
back to the council-hall of the wise men, wailing and clashing their
arms in woe, and shouting, ever and anon:

"_Honor to Morven, the prophet!_"

And that was the first time the word PROPHET was ever used in those
countries.

At noon, on the third day from the king's death, Siror sought Morven,
and he said:

"Lo, my father is no more, and the people meet this evening at sunset
to elect his successor, and the warriors and the young men will surely
choose my brother, for he is more known in war. Fail me not, therefore."

"Peace, boy!" said Morven, sternly; "nor dare to question the truth of
the gods of night."

For Morven now began to presume on his power among the people, and to
speak as rulers speak, even to the sons of kings.

And the voice silenced the fiery Siror, nor dared he to reply.

"Behold," said Morven, taking up a chaplet of colored plumes, "wear
this on thy head, and put on a brave face--for the people like a hopeful
spirit--and go down with thy brother to the place where the new king is
to be chosen, and leave the rest to the stars.

"But, above all things, forget not that chaplet; it has been blessed by
the gods of night."

The prince took the chaplet and returned home.

It was evening and the warriors and chiefs of the tribe were assembled
in the place where the new king was to be elected.

And the voices of the many favored Prince Voltoch, the brother of Siror,
for he had slain twelve foeman with his spear; and verily, in those
days, that was a great virtue in a king.

Suddenly there was a shout in the streets, and the people cried out:

"Way for Morven, the prophet, the prophet!"

For the people held the son of Osslah in even greater respect than did
the chiefs.

Now, since he had become of note, Morven had assumed a majesty of air
which the son of the herdsman knew not in his earlier days; and albeit
his stature was short, and his limbs halted, yet his countenance was
grave and high.

He only of the tribe wore a garment that swept the ground, and his head
was bare, and his long black hair descended to his girdle, and rarely
was change or human passion seen in his calm aspect.

He feasted not, nor drank wine, nor was his presence frequent in the
streets.

He laughed not, neither did he smile, save when alone in the forest--and
then he laughed at the follies of his tribe.

So he walked slowly