"No!" again cried Constans. Then, suddenly, it seemed that a great light shone about him. But the wonder of it lay not in this new knowledge of Esmay's heart, but in the revelation of his own. He loved her, he knew it now, and not as in that brief moment of passion at Arcadia, when even honor seemed well lost. For this was the greater love that draws a man to the one woman in the world who has the power to lift him to the heights whereon she herself stands. A supreme joy, that humbled even while it exalted, swept over Constans. "I will go," he said, and took Ulick's hand in both his own. The storm-centre of the fighting had moved away from them; above their heads the stars shone serenely. Constans could not speak, but he pointed them out to his friend. * * * * * Piers Minor, fighting in the press at the gate as became his stout breed, chanced to rescue a boy from being crushed to death. The lad had been crowded up against a projecting angle and was quite breathless when the Stockader, arching his back against the pressure, broke the jam by sheer strength and pulled the stripling out of his dangerous position. But what a fine color came back into the white cheeks as the twain recognized each other! "You!" said Nanna, and at that moment she would have given all she possessed in the world for just a skirt. "You!" re-echoed Piers Minor, and immediately a horrible dumbness fell upon him. The thunder of the captains and the shouting filled their ears, but they heard not, the red light of battle danced before their eyes, but they saw not. Some miracle swept them clear of the struggle, and guided them to the shelter afforded by a half-completed barricade of ox-carts. And here Piers Minor, seeing that she trembled and edged closer to him like any ordinary woman, took on a wonderful accession of courage. "Little one!" he murmured, in his big, bass voice, and laughed contentedly, just as though death were not standing at his other elbow. But then Piers Minor was not a man to think of more than one thing at a time. "I have seen Ulick," whispered Nanna, "and he promised to give the message to Constans. Surely he will do so--tell me?" Piers Minor put his arm around her. "Of course," he answered, stoutly, without comprehending in the least who Ulick was or what the message could be about. But he did understand that she wanted comfort in her trouble, and so he said and did precisely the right thing. All of which was exceedingly clever for Piers Minor. Some one brushed rudely against them, and Piers Minor turned in anger. But Nanna laid her hand upon his arm. "Hush!" she said, "it is Prosper, the priest." The old man stood motionless for an instant surveying the wild scene before him. "It is the third day," he muttered, "the day of Doom. The day and now the hour. So be it, lord; it is thy will, and I obey."