And suddenly she dropped the ball, which would have rolled off her father’s knee had he not caught it as it fell.

Ysolinde kept her head on Master Gerard’s lap for a long minute, as if, after the vision of the crystal, she could not bear the common light nor speak of meaner things.  Then, without once looking at me, she rose, gathered her skirts in her hand, and glided out of the doorway in which she had stood.

When she was quite gone her father reached a bony hand across to me.

“That is a great fate which she has read for you—­never have I seen her so moved, nor yet her vision so clear and unmistakable.  Surely the sooner you seek the service of the Prince of Plassenburg the better.”

“But,” said I, “how do I know that he will accept me?  He may not wish to retain in his service the son of the Red Axe of the Wolf mark.”

Master von Sturm smiled subtly at me.

“I cannot tell,” he said, “why it is that I have an interest in you.  But I desire to see you other than that which you are.  I have, strange as it may seem in one of such humble degree here in the city of Thorn, whom all may consult without fee or reward, a certain influence and place in the councils of the reigning Prince of Plassenburg.  If, therefore, you will take service with him, I can give you such an introduction as will guarantee you a place, not as man-at-arms, but as officer, so that your way may lie before you clear from the first.  Also in this promotion you shall have a good sufficient reason to give those who may accuse you of changing your service.”

I could not answer him for gladness.  The hope seemed so unbelievable—­the fortune too grateful to be true.  I was overcome, and, as I guess, showed it in my face.  For twice I essayed to speak and could not.

So that Master Gerard rose and glided over to me, patting me kindly enough on the shoulders and bidding me take courage, saying that he loved to see modesty in this untoward generation, in which there was little virtue and no gratitude at all.

So I grasped him by the hand and kissed his thin, bony fingers.

“Bide ye, bide ye,” he said; “one day I may kiss yours an you be active.  The wide spaces of Destiny lie before you, though I shall not live to see it.  But you must bestir you, for I am an old man, and have not far to travel now to the place from which one leaps off into the dark.”

He conducted me to the door of his chamber and gave me his hand again with the same inscrutable smile on his thin face, and his skull-cap pushed farther back than ever over the flat, ophidian brow.

“When you have all things ready,” he said, “come to me for the letter of introduction, and also for that which may obtain you a worthy outfit for your journeying to Plassenburg.  Or, if you are already Sir Proud-Heart, you can repay me one day, with usury if you will.  I care not to stand on observances with you, nor desire that you should feel any obligation to a feeble old man.”