armor
at all, only feasting-clothes of purple velvet, was the King himself.

The whole troop of butterfly pages rushed forward to take possession of
the horses; the little gentlewomen made a fluttering group behind their
mistress; and Elfgiva, laughing in sweetest mockery, swept back her rosy
robes in a lowly reverence.

"Hail, lord of half a kingdom but of the whole of my heart!" she greeted
him.

Canute seemed to drink in her fairness like wine; his face was boyish
in its radiance as he leaped from his horse before her. "What! The first
word a gibe?" he cried, then caught her in his arms and stilled her
silvery laughter with his lips.

It was so charming a picture that Randalin smiled in sympathy, where she
stood a little way behind the young wife, awaiting the moment when the
King should have leisure to discover her. Not the faintest doubt of his
friendliness was in her mind. She was still smiling, when at last he
raised his head and looked at her over Elfgiva's shoulder.

Then alas, the smile died, murdered, on her lips. Turning, Canute
beckoned to the son of Lodbrok, who was enduring the scene with the same
stolid resignation which he displayed toward his chief's other follies.
"Foster-brother, how comes it that you do not follow my example and
embrace the bride that I have given you?"

As ice breaks and reveals sullen waters underneath, so stolidity broke
in Rothgar's face. With a harsh laugh, he strode forward.

Perhaps it was to follow the King's suggestion, perhaps it was only to
vent his reproaches; but Randalin did not wait to see. Before she knew
how she got there, she was at Elfgiva's side, clutching at her mantle.

"Lady! You promised me--" she cried.

And for all her chiming laughter, Elfgiva's silken arm was stretched
out like a bar. "No further, good Giant!" she said gayly. "The King gave
what was not his, for this toy has become mine." She turned to Canute
with a little play of smiling pouts, very bewitching on such lips. "Fie,
my lord! Be pleased to call your wolves off my lambs."

Plainly, Canute's frown was unable to withstand such witcheries. Despite
himself he laughed, and his voice was more persuasive than commanding.
"Now he will not rob you of the girl, my Shining One. Once he has wedded
her, you may keep her until you tire. It was only because--"

But there he stopped, for all at once a mist had come over the heavenly
eyes, and the smiling lips had drawn themselves into a trembling