s nothing but throw great stones for sport
into the sea'?"

He had the simple mind of a child, and he listened to her patiently,
and at last got up and began preparing for a journey, cleaning all his
weapons, and gathering them together. She understood him, and she
said, with a little laugh like music: "One strong man is better than
a hundred--a little key will open a great door easier than a hundred
hammers. What is the strength of a hundred bullocks without this?" she
added, tapping him on the forehead.

Then they sat down and talked together quietly for a long time; and at
sunset she saw him start away upon great errands.

Before two years had gone, Nooni, the city of their foes, was taken; the
chain wall of the rebels opened to the fish and corn of the poor; the
children wandered in the forest without fear of wild boars; the dyke was
built to save the people in the lowlands; and Golgothar carried to
the castle the King had given him the daughter of the city, freed from
Mirnan.

"If Golgothar had a hundred wives--" said a voice to the strong man as
he entered the castle gates. Looking up he saw Sapphire. He stretched
out his hand to her in joy and friendship.

"--I would not be one of them," she added, with a mocking laugh, as she
dropped from the wall, leaped the moat by the help of her staff, and
danced away laughing. There are those who say, however that tears fell
down her cheeks as she laughed.

THE SINGING OF THE BEES

"Mother, didst thou not say thy prayers last night?"

"Twice, my child."

"Once before the little shrine, and once beside my bed--is it not so?"

"It is so, my Fanchon. What hast thou in thy mind?"

"Thou didst pray that the storm die in the hills, and the flood cease,
and that my father come before it was again the hour of prayer. It is
now the hour. Canst thou not hear the storm and the wash of the flood?
And my father does not come!"

"Dear Fanchon, God is good."

"When thou wast asleep I rose from my bed, and in the dark I kissed
the feet of--Him--on the little Calvary; and I did not speak, but in my
heart I called."

"What didst thou call, my child?"

"I called to my father: 'Come back-come back!'"

"Thou shouldst have called to God, my Fanchon."

"I loved my father, and I called to him."

"Thou shouldst love God."

"I knew my father first. If God loved thee, He would answer thy prayer.
Dost thou not hear the cracking of the cedar trees and the cry of the
wolv