The Gift of Beauty
T HE following morning Marvel and Nerle once more set out to leave the Kingdom of Spor and its ugly king. They selected another pathway leading from the castle and traveled all day, coming at nightfall into view of the place whence they had started, with its solemn rows of giants and Gray Men standing ready to receive them.
This repetition of their former experience somewhat annoyed the prince, while Nerle's usually despondent face wore a smile.
"I see trouble ahead," murmured the esquire, almost cheerfully. "Since the king can not conquer us by force he intends to do it by sorcery."
Marvel did not reply, but greeted the king