Food was scarce within the hut, and even though he groaned to die, the dawns brought hunger.

So at the close of day he dragged him down the mountainside, thinking that under cover of the dusk he would steal into the village and seek a chance to earn his bread.
But as he neared the little town and the sound of evening bells broke on his ear, and lighted windows marked the homes where welcome waited other men, he winced as from a blow.

This was the village he had thought to enter in the midst of loud acclaims, its brave deliverer from the Province Terror.

Then every window in the hamlet would have blazed for him.

Then every door would have been set wide to welcome Aldebaran, the royal son of kings, fittest to bear the Sword of Conquest.