She lifted his hand and kissed it.

“They are the Bearers of the Sign,” she said rather softly. “’The Lamp is lighted.’”

Then his whole look changed.  His laughing face became quite grave and for a moment looked even anxious.  Marco knew it was because he was startled to find them only boys.  He made a step forward to look at them more closely.

“The Lamp is lighted!  And you two bear the Sign!” he exclaimed.  Marco stood out in the fire glow that he might see him well.  He saluted with respect.

“My name is Marco Loristan, Highness,” he said.  “And my father sent me.”

The change which came upon his face then was even greater than at first.  For a second, Marco even felt that there was a flash of alarm in it.  But almost at once that passed.

“Loristan is a great man and a great patriot,” he said.  “If he sent you, it is because he knows you are the one safe messenger.  He has worked too long for Samavia not to know what he does.”

Marco saluted again.  He knew what it was right to say next.

“If we have your Highness’s permission to retire,” he said, “we will leave you and go to bed.  We go down the mountain at sunrise.”

“Where next?” asked the hunter, looking at him with curious intentness.

“To Vienna, Highness,” Marco answered.

His questioner held out his hand, still with the intent interest in his eyes.

“Good night, fine lad,” he said.  “Samavia has need to vaunt itself on its Sign-bearer.  God go with you.”

He stood and watched him as he went toward the room in which he and his aide-de-camp were to sleep.  The Rat followed him closely.  At the little back door the old, old woman stood, having opened it for them.  As Marco passed and bade her good night, he saw that she again made the strange obeisance, bending the knee as he went by.

XXIV

“HOW SHALL WE FIND HIM?”

In Vienna they came upon a pageant.  In celebration of a century-past victory the Emperor drove in state and ceremony to attend at the great cathedral and to do honor to the ancient banners and laurel-wreathed statue of a long-dead soldier-prince.  The broad pavements of the huge chief thoroughfare were crowded with a cheering populace watching the martial pomp and splendor as it passed by with marching feet, prancing horses, and glitter of scabbard and chain, which all seemed somehow part of music in triumphant bursts.

The Rat was enormously thrilled by the magnificence of the imperial place.  Its immense spaces, the squares and gardens, reigned over by statues of emperors, and warriors, and queens made him feel that all things on earth were possible.  The palaces and stately piles of architecture, whose surmounting equestrian bronzes ramped high in the air clear cut and beautiful against the sky, seemed to sweep out of his world all atmosphere but that of splendid cities down whose broad avenues emperors rode with waving banners, tramping, jangling soldiery before and behind, and golden trumpets blaring forth.  It seemed as if it must always be like this—­that lances and cavalry and emperors would never cease to ride by.  “I should like to stay here a long time,” he said almost as if he were in a dream.  “I should like to see it all.”