"You have a glib tongue," was the saying of the ruler, "but I fear me it is of two ends."
"Not so," answered the wizard; "there is nothing of the black art in me. It is a simple thing I do. See—" and he raised the box.
"Point it not at me!" spake Batta, rapidly. "Try it on yon scribe, for if harm should befall him there are more among my people."
Then would I have fled, but my legs sank beneath me.
"Have no fear," said the wizard; "I have but to touch this little piece, and all is done, without harm to any."
"I know nothing of your box," said Batta, and did lay chin upon his hand, like a counselor; "but mayhap I had better drop thee and thy box into the sea that rests not."
Then the wizard set down the magic chest, and smote his breast. At last he spoke:
"Great ruler," said he, "if you will give me a few more risings and settings of the sun, and will send to my cave your scribe, I will show to him all my art, so that he may make the picture-flats, likewise. You know that he is no evil-worker, and he can tell you all my art. If not, you will know that I am speaking with a false tongue, and can throw me from the cliff down where the waves roll white."
"’T is little risk," replied my ruler; "a scribe more or a scribe less does not count in the roll of the fighting-men. Take him, and work thy wicked will upon him until the moon is a round shield. Come then again, and thou shalt be released or thrown into the sea which eats boats."
Then went I on my knees to the great Batta, trying with my tears to melt his heart. But as the drops from the wide-foot bird's back, so rolled my tears from the heart of Batta, who cared only for the good of his people.
5
