"Alack, he is too feminine," said Prezmyra.

"Others our Lord the King."

"There is none greater," said Prezmyra, "nor more worshipful. But for an husband, thou shouldst as well wed with a thunderstorm or the hungry sea. Give me some more."

"Some chose the lord Admiral."

"That," said Prezmyra, "was a nearer stroke. No skip-jack nor soft marmalady courtier, but a brave, tall, gallant gentleman. Ay, but too watery a planet burned at his nativity. He is too like a statua of a man. No, nurse, thou must bring me better than he."

The nurse said, "True it is, O Queen, that most were of my thinking when I gave 'em my choice: the king of Demonland."

"Fie on thee!" cried Prezmyra. "Name him not so that was too unmighty to hold that land against our enemies."

"Folk say it was by foxish arts and practices magical a was spilt on Krothering Side. Folk say 'twas divels and not horses carried the Demons down the mountain at us."

"They say!" cried Prezmyra. "I say to thee, he hath found it apter to his bent to flaunt his crown in Witchland than make 'em give him the knee in Galing. For a true king both knee and heart do truly bow before him. But this one, if he had their knee 'twas in the back side of him he had it, to kick him home again."

"Fie, madam!" said the nurse.

"Hold thy tongue, nurse," said Prezmyra. "It were good ye were all well whipped for a bunch of silly mares that know not a horse from an ass."

The old woman watching her in the glass counted it best keep silence. Prezmyra said under her breath as if talking to herself, "I know a man should not have miscarried it thus." The old nurse that loved not Lord Corund and his haughty fashions and rough speech and wine-bibbing, and was besides jealous that so rude a stock should wear so rich ajewel as was her mistress, followed not her meaning.

After some time, the old woman spake softly and said, "You are full of thoughts to-night, madam."

Prezmyra's eyes met hers in the mirror. "Why may I not be so and it likes me?" said she.

That stony look of the eyes struck like a gong some twenty-year-old memory in the nurse's heart: the little wilful maiden, ill to goad but good to guide, looking out from that Queen's face across the years. She knelt down suddenly and caught her arms about her mistress's waist. "Why must you wed then, dear heart?" said she, "if you were minded to do what likes you? Men love not sad looks in their wives. You may ride a lover on the curb, madam, but once you wed him 'tis all t'other way: all his way, madam, and beware of 'had I wist.'"

Her mistress looked down at her mockingly. "I have been wed seven years to-night. I should know these things."

"And this night!" said the nurse. "And but an hour till midnight, and yet he sitteth at board."

The Lady Prezmyra leaned back to look again on her own mirrored loveliness. Her proud mouth sweetened to a smile. "Wilt thou learn me common women's wisdom?" said she, and there was yet more voluptuous sweetness trembling in her voice. "I will tell thee a story, as thou hast told them me in the old days in Norvasp to wile me to bed. Hast thou not heard tell how old Duke Hilmanes of Maltraeny, among some other fantasies such as appear by night unto many in divers places, had one in likeness of a woman with old face of low and little stature or body, which did scour his pots and pans and did such things as a maid servant ought to do, liberally and without doing of any harm? And by his art he knew this thing should be his servant still, and bring unto him whatsoever he would, so long time as he should be glad of the things it brought him. But this duke, being a foolish man and a greedy, made his familiar bring him at once all the year's seasons and their several goods and pleasures, and all good things of earth at one time. So as in six months' space, he being sated with these and all good things, and having no good thing remaining unto him to expect or to desire, for very weariness did hang himself. I would never have ta'en me an husband, nurse, and I had not known that I was able to give him every time I would a new heaven and a new earth, and never the same thing twice."

She took the old woman's hands in hers and gathered them to her breast, as if to let them learn, rocked for a minute in the bountiful infinite sweetness of that place, what foolish fears were these. Suddenly Prezmyra clasped the hands tighter in her own, and shuddered a little. She bent down to whisper in the nurse's ear, "I would not wish to die. The world without me should be summer without roses. Carcë without me should be a night without the star-shine."

Her voice died away like the night breeze in a summer garden. In the silence they heard the dip and wash of oar-blades from the river without; the sentinel's challenge, the answer from the ship.

Prezmyra stood up quickly and went to the window. She could see the ship's dark bulk by the water-gate, and comings and goings, but nought clearly. "Tidings from the fleet," she said. "Put up my hair."

And ere that was done, came a little page running to her chamber door, and when it was opened to him, stood panting from his running and said, "The king your husband bade me tell you, madam, and pray you go down to him i' the great hall. It may be ill news, I fear."

"Thou fearest, pap-face?" said the Queen. "I'll have thee whipped if thou bringest thy fears to me. Dost know aught? What's the matter?"

"The ship's much battered, O Queen. He is closeted with our Lord the King, the skipper. None dare speak else. 'Tis feared the high Admiral-"

"Feared!" cried she, swinging round for the nurse to put about her white shoulders her mantle of sendaline and cloth of silver, that shimmered at the collar with purple amethysts and was scented with cedar and galbanum and myrrh. She was forth in the dark corridor, down by the winding marble stair, through the midcourt, hasting to the banquet hall. The court was full of folk talking; but nought certain, nought save suspense and wonder; rumour of a great sea-fight in the south, a mighty victory won by Laxus upon the Demons: Juss and those lords of Demonland dead and gone, the captives following with the morning's tide. And here and there like an undertone to these triumphant tidings, contrary rumours, whispered low, like the hissing of an adder from her shadowy lair: all not well, the lord Admiral wounded, half his ships lost, the battle doubtful, the Demons escaped. So came that lady into the great hall; and there were the lords and captains of the Witches all in a restless quiet of expectation. Duke Corsus lolled forward in his seat down by the cross-bench, his breath stertorous, his small eyes fixed in a drunken stare. On the other side Corund sate huge and motionless, his elbow propped on the table, his chin in his hand, sombre and silent, staring at the wall. Others gathered in knots, talking in low tones. The Lord Corinius walked up and down behind the cross-bench, his hands clasped behind him, his fingers snapping impatiently at whiles, his heavy jaw held high, his glance high and defiant. Prezmyra came to Heming where he stood among three or four and touched him on the arm. "We know nothing, madam," he said. "He is with the King."

She came to her lord. "Thou didst send for me."

Corund looked up at her. "Why, so I did, madam. Tidings from the fleet. Maybe somewhat, maybe nought. But thou'dst best be here for't."

"Good tidings or ill: that shaketh not Carcë walls," said she.