s, an evil thing sat in either eye and
glittered upon them. Dwaymenau passed her hand across his brow, and he
smiled and they were gone.

"The beast ran at me and would have flung me with his horns," he said,
looking up brightly at his mother. "He had the madness upon him. I
struck once and he was dead. My father would have done the same.

"That would he not!" said Queen Maya bitterly. "Your father would have
crept up, fawning on the deer, and offered him the fruits he loved,
stroking him the while. And in trust the beast would have eaten, and the
poison in the fruit would have slain him. For the people of your father
meet neither man nor beast in fair fight. With a kiss they stab!"

Horror kept the women staring and silent. No one had dreamed that
the scandal had reached the Queen. Never had she spoken or looked her
knowledge but endured all in patience. Now it sprang out like a sword
among them, and they feared for Maya, whom all loved.

Mindon did not understand. It was beyond him, but he saw he was scorned.
Dwaymenau, her face rigid as a mask, looked pitilessly at the shaking
Queen, and each word dropped from her mouth, hard and cold as the
falling of diamonds. She refused the insult.

"If it is thus you speak of our lord and my love, what wonder he
forsakes you? Mother of a craven milk runs in your veins and his for
blood. Take your slinking brat away and weep together! My son and I
go forth to meet the King as he comes from hunting, and to welcome him
kingly!" She caught her boy to her with a magnificent gesture; he flung
his little arm about her, and laughing loudly they went off together.

The tension relaxed a little when they were out of sight. The women knew
that, since Dwaymenau had refused to take the Queen's meaning, she
would certainly not carry her complaint to the King. They guessed at her
reason for this forbearance, but, be that as it might, it was Certain
that no other person would dare to tell him and risk the fate that waits
the messenger of evil.

The eldest lady led away the Queen, now almost tottering in the reaction
of fear and pain. Oh, that she had controlled her speech! Not for her
own sake--for she had lost all and the beggar can lose no more--but for
the boy's sake, the unloved child that stood between the stranger and
her hopes. For him she had made a terrible enemy. Weeping, the boy
followed her.

"Take comfort, little son," she said, drawing him to her tenderly. "The
deer can s