blossom as it must in the glow of thy love. Oh! believe me, friend, I, that have a faithful wife, can tell thee, out of my own great thankfulness, that the white flower of a woman’s love finds fullest flowering on the heart of her faithful lord. And thou dost say thy young wife is beautiful? Dost thou not fear that in her loneliness other men may see as thou hast seen, and find her beautiful?”
“Nay! nay!” eagerly protested Thorgills. “She is faithful—far more faithful than life, faithful even as death.”
“As are the women of her land,” said Eogan, simply. “And yet, dost thou do well to leave her so unprotected in a strange land?”
Thorgills looked sadly at Eogan. “I came to seek my king. It did seem as if I should die, if I found him not. I thought only that my wife would not grieve for me. She is in the care of a noble lady. Now I seem to have done an unwise thing, and I have not found my king.”
Eogan thought for a moment, then he said kindly, laying his hand on Thorgills’ arm: “Come thou with me to the house of an Arab, who is friendly with me. To-night we will rest with him, and on the morrow we will further inquire of thy king.”
