The comrades parted, and Sir Charleroy quickly found himself by the maiden who personated Esther. He approached unnoticed until he pleasantly said: “Queen of Shushan, a man out there behind a clump of Sharon roses, played me a game of lots. I lost the game, and he has put it on me to come to the Queen to fix the forfeit I shall pay.” The maiden turned her head haughtily and examined the speaker from head to foot with repelling gaze. It was her way of freezing off the amorous swains who constantly aimed to pay her court. But when her eyes met those of the self-possessed stranger, she gave a little start. Perhaps she caught sight, by some omen, of her fate; perhaps she felt the magnetism of the strong will which for the first time presented itself. In any event, it was the first time she had ever been alone, face to face, with such as he; a stalwart man, all reverential, yet all self-possessed. They were well matched, and they both felt it, intuitively, instantly. “Who art thou?” “A child of God.” “Of Israel?” “By faith, most holy of Abraham’s seed,” responded Sir Charleroy. “Thy speech bewrayeth thee as lacking our shibboleth.” “I’ve been a life long wanderer. Thou wouldst not reject one whom involuntary exile had robbed of tokens?” “But I can not be free with an uncertified stranger. I’m afraid I err in tarrying here ’till now.” “Hospitality is the boast of pious Hebrews who obey Him that ‘loveth the stranger in giving him food and raiment.’ Thou hast the Great Father’s law: ‘Love ye therefore the stranger, for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.’ Some have by hospitality unawares entertained angels, thou knowst.” “I’d like to entertain an angel; are they ever so human-like as thou?” she smiled. “Had I known the Esther of to-night long enough to convince her that my freedom was sincere, I’d say that she was a fine example of the union of the angelic in the human.” The maiden laughed. The incense was agreeable, and the freedom of this feast-time justified her acceptance of this novel, bold flattery. Your proud, daring woman is very vulnerable to such assaults. The world often wonders why such women so often, after all, surrender; but that’s because the world does not appreciate the dexterity in such jousts of such skilled men of the world as Sir Charleroy; or how grateful to self-admiring beauties the admiration of superior intellects is. “Well, will thou give me thy name?” “Certainly. For to-night, Ahasuerus?” “A presumptious jest, sir.” “No, for I admire and respect Esther, that’s here.” “And then?” “I plead for help; gain me admittance to the festivities, and escape from inquiry further, as to my identity.” “And afterward, be called by my people brazen by thee, a little fool!” “Art thou driven from right, the claim of hospitality, by fear of a lie?” “What if thou wert a Bedouin spy, or a hated cross follower?” “Thou art a noble hearted maiden.” “Ah, who told thee so?” “Thy face.”