The answer to the riddle was given as they turned the corner by Messer Hugolin's house. The strong-room on the ground-floor stood empty and despoiled of its treasures, yet the gold and silver had not been carried away, but lay scattered about in the filth of the street, as though utterly contemned by the marauders. And there, hanging from a cross-bar of the broken window, was the body of Messer Hugolin, Councillor Primus of Croye, dressed in his scarlet robes of office, and with a great gold chain about his neck. His head was bowed upon his breast, so that the face was not visible, and for this indulgence Constans gave inward thanks. "Ride on," commanded Piers Major, shortly, and the cavalcade clattered forward. It is not worth while to linger where once Dom Gillian's tax-gatherers have passed. XXII YET THREE DAYS Esmay sat in the gardens at Arcadia House. It was the loveliest of spring days, and there were blossoms everywhere--the vivid pink of the Judas-tree, the white glory of the dogwood, and each Forsythia bush a cascade of golden foam. It was all so beautiful, and in that same measure it hurt so keenly. The girl flung herself face downward in the grass, seeking to shut out from sight and hearing the world that mocked her. That same night Esmay went to Nanna and announced her intention of paying another visit to the "House of Power." "Our lord cannot be wholly unmindful of his children," she said, "and light may come to us from the Shining One. Besides," and here her color deepened, "it is where he lived, he who was my friend. If I could but find some little thing that had been his--a glove or one of his books! Now do be a good Nanna and help me in this." But the practical Nanna shook her head. "That mad, old graybeard, who considers it a contamination to even look upon a woman, is it likely that he will invite you into his sanctuary and set himself to answer your foolish questions? It is supposed to be sufficient grace for a woman if the Shining One deigns to accept the gifts that she lays upon his altar." "Then we will go dressed as men. There is everything we can want in the presses up-stairs, and I can steal the key of the wicket gate from out of Kurt's very pocket. Now, Nanna, dear----" And of course Nanna yielded, for she saw that her darling's heart was set upon this thing. Quinton Edge was still absent in the _Black Swan_, and it would be an easy matter to hoodwink old Kurt; he was always fuddled with ale nowadays. To-morrow would be Friday, the day of the weekly sacrifice; they could make the trial then.