rco to
stand, with his aide-de-camp on the lower level in attendance. A knot
of the biggest herdsmen went out and returned. Each carried a huge
sword which had perhaps been of the earliest made in the dark days gone
by. The bearers formed themselves into a line on either side of
Marco. They raised their swords and formed a pointed arch above his
head and a passage twelve men long. When the points first clashed
together The Rat struck himself hard upon his breast. His exultation
was too keen to endure. He gazed at Marco standing still--in that
curiously splendid way in which both he and his father COULD stand
still--and wondered how he could do it. He looked as if he were
prepared for any strange thing which could happen to him--because he
was "under orders." The Rat knew that he was doing whatsoever he did
merely for his father's sake. It was as if he felt that he was
representing his father, though he was a mere boy; and that because of
this, boy as he was, he must bear himself nobly and remain outwardly
undisturbed.

At the end of the arch of swords, the old priest stood and gave a sign
to one man after another. When the sign was given to a man he walked
under the arch to the dais, and there knelt and, lifting Marco's hand
to his lips, kissed it with passionate fervor. Then he returned to the
place he had left. One after another passed up the aisle of swords,
one after another knelt, one after the other kissed the brown young
hand, rose and went away. Sometimes The Rat heard a few words which
sounded almost like a murmured prayer, sometimes he heard a sob as a
shaggy head bent, again and again he saw eyes wet with tears. Once or
twice Marco spoke a few Samavian words, and the face of the man spoken
to flamed with joy. The Rat had time to see, as Marco had seen, that
many of the faces were not those of peasants. Some of them were clear
cut and subtle and of the type of scholars or nobles. It took a long
time for them all to kneel and kiss the lad's hand, but no man omitted
the ceremony; and when at last it was at an end, a strange silence
filled the cavern. They stood and gazed at each other with burning
eyes.

The priest moved to Marco's side, and stood near the altar. He leaned
forward and took in his hand a cord which hung from the veiled
picture--he drew it and the curtain fell apart. There seemed to stand
gazing at them from between its folds a tall kingly youth with deep
eyes in which the s