"On thy head be it if thou can'st not keep thy young fighting cock in order--'twill be all over the town by midnight!" Foster-father did not often let his temper get the better of his prudence, but he could not resist saying mildly: "Kingship is like the musk-bag, friend, that was broken at the royal child's birth.

It diffuses its perfume over the habitable world, and none can mistake it." The Captain of the Escort shrugged his shoulders.

"Then it shall smell in the wilderness, friend; for I run no risks of rescue this side the passes.

So bid the women give the young crowing cockerel his supper and prepare to start again.

There will be a moon in another hour and we can push on.