Scarcely a hint he gave that those affairs might
not prosper, for he trusted the word of the King of Shadow Valley. His
confidence had returned: and soon, with swords at side and cloaks
floating brilliant on light winds of April, Rodriguez and Alderon rode
away together.

Soon in the distance they saw Shadow Valley. And then Rodriguez
bethought him of Morano and of the foul wrong he committed against Don
Alderon with his frying-pan, and how he was there in the camp to which
he was bringing his friend. And so he said: "That vile knave Morano
still lives and insists on serving me."

"If he be near," said Don Alderon, "I pray you to disarm him of his
frying-pan for the sake of my honour, which does not suffer me to be
stricken with culinary weapons, but only with the sword, the lance, or
even bolts of cannon or arquebuss ..." He was thinking of yet more
weapons when Rodriguez put spurs to his horse. "He is near," he said;
"I will ride on and disarm him."

So Rodriguez came cantering into the forest while Don Alderon ambled a
mile or so behind him.

And there he found his old camp and saw Morano, sitting upon the ground
by a small fire. Morano sprang up at once with joy in his eyes, his
face wreathed with questions, which he did not put into words for he
did not pry openly into his master's affairs.

"Morano," said Rodriguez, "give me your frying-pan."

"My frying-pan?" said Morano.

"Yes," said Rodriguez. And when he held in his hand that blackened,
greasy utensil he told Morano, "That senor you met in Lowlight rides
with me."

The cheerfulness faded out of Morano's face as light fades at sunset.
"Master," he said, "he will surely slay me now."

"He will not slay you," said Rodriguez.

"Master," Morano said, "he hopes for my fat carcase as much as men hope
for the unicorn, when they wear their bright green coats and hunt him
with dogs in Spring." I know not what legend Morano stored in his mind,
nor how much of it was true. "And when he finds me without my
frying-pan he will surely slay me."

"That senor," said Rodriguez emphatically, "must not be hit with the
frying-pan."

"That is a hard rule, master," said Morano.

And Rodriguez was indignant, when he heard that, that anyone should
thus blaspheme against an obvious law of chivalry: while Morano's only
thought was upon the injustice of giving up the sweets of life for the
sake of a frying-pan. Thus they were at cross-purposes. And for some
while they s