More eloquent the sheathed sword that told of years of inward struggle than if it bore the blood of dragons, for on his face there shone the peace that comes alone of mighty triumph.
The king looked round upon his nobles and his stalwart sons, then back again upon Aldebaran, lying in silent majesty.
"Bring royal purple for the pall," he faltered, "and leave the Sword of Conquest with him! No other hands will ever be found worthier to claim it!" That night when tall white candles burned about him there stole a white-robed figure to the flower-strewn bier.

'Twas Vesta, decked as for a bridal, her golden tresses falling round her like a veil.

They found her kneeling there beside him, her face like his all filled with starry light, and round them both was such a wondrous shining, the watchers drew aside in awe.
"'Tis as the old astrologers foretold," they whispered.

"Her soul hath entered on its deathless vigil.

In truth he was the bravest that this earth has ever known." The porter was lighting the lamps when Mary finished reading.