hed law of her world. He was a youth of one-and-twenty then, slenderly built, with his father's darkness and his father's gravity. He was clad in a sober soft brown leather, close-fitting easy garments, and in brown hose, that shaped him bravely. His head went uncovered in all weathers. They stood regarding one another--she incredulously amazed, and he with his heart beating fast. It was a moment without a prelude, the cardinal meeting of their lives.
For him there was less surprise. He had been seeking her, and yet his heart beat fast. He came towards her, slowly, with his eyes upon her face.
"You are the Princess," he said. "My father has told me. You are the Princess who was given the Food of the Gods."
"I am the Princess--yes," she said, with eyes of wonder. "But--what are you?"
"I am the son of the man who made the Food of the Gods."
"The Food of the Gods!"
"Yes, the Food of the Gods."
"But--"
Her face expressed infinite perplexity.
"What? I don't understand. The Food of the Gods?"
"You have not heard?"
"The Food of the Gods! _No_!"
She found herself trembling violently. The colour left her face. "I did not know," she said. "Do you mean--?"
He waited for her.
"Do you mean there are other--gi
