Sapt stopped, turned, and retraced his steps. He took a crown from his pocket. As he looked up in giving it, there was a queer smile on his broad weather-beaten face.

"Aye," he said, "every man that deserves a crown shall have one, if I can give it him."

Then he turned again to James, who had now come up, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"Come along, my king-maker," said he.

James looked in his face for a moment. The Constable's eyes met his, and the Constable nodded.

So they turned to the lodge where the dead king and his huntsman lay. Verily the fate drove.