Only the hand
that rested on his sword-hilt protruded into the light. It was a broad hand,
and thick-fingered as a butcher's, but it was milk-white and weighted with
massive rings.
Meanwhile, the King was speaking affably: "As you did not favor us with your
presence among the Wise Men, my lord, it is likely that you do not know of the
good luck which has befallen our cause. This prudent Earl, who before the
battle had concluded with himself that England had so little to hope for from
our reign that he was willing to throw his weight against us, has found his
victory so without relish that he has become our sworn ally."
As he paused,--perhaps to leave space for an answer,--the complacency of his
face was heightened by a smile, faintly shrewd, touching the corners of his
mouth. But when Sebert limited his reply to a respectful inclination of his
head, the smile vanished abruptly. Under the affability there became evident a
certain stern insistence.
"In former days, I think there was some hostile temper between the Earl and
you. But I expect you will see that under the stress of a foreign war all
lesser strife must give way. So I desire that you will repeat in my presence
the troth already plighted by these others."
He made a slight gesture, and the Gainer took a step forward. The light that
fell back from his hooded face played curiously about his jewelled hand; as it
rose from the gilded hilt, it could be seen that to remedy the bluntness of
the thick fingers the nails had been allowed to grow very long, which gave it
now, in its half-curve, the look of a claw, upon which the red gems shone like
blood-drops.
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