The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1907-01-29
JOAN 2 SH SWORD HAND
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S.RCROCkETT. >A4zhor az MeRNQactco

CHAPTER XIV.

The Face That Looked Into Joan's.
The chamber to which the Duchess
had evidently been carefully prepar-
ed for her reception. It was large,
low room, with a vaulted roof Of carv-
en- wood. The work was of great
merit and evidently old. A table with
little prie-Dieu stood in the corner,
screened by curtain which ran on
brazen rod. A Roman Breviary lay
on velvet-covered table before the
crucilx. Joan lifted 1t up and her
eyes fell on the words: "By a woman
he overcame. BY a woman he was
overcome. A woman was once his
weapon. A woman is now become the
instrument of his defeat He findeth
that the weak vessel cannot be
broken"
Nor shall it," said Joan, looking
at the cross before her, "by the
strength of Mary the Mother, the weak
vessel shall not be broken!"
AS she stopped to blow out the last
candle, a motto on the stem caught
her eye. Joan took the candle out of
its socket and read the inscription
word by word
"Da pacem, Domino, in diebus nos
iris"
1t was her own scroll, the motto of
the reigning dukes of Hohenstein-a
strange one, doubtless, to be that of
a fighting race, but, nevertheless, her
fathers and her own.
What did her fathers motto, the
device of her house, upon this Baltic
island, far from the highlands of
Kernsberg? Had these wastes once
belonged to men of her race? And
this woman, who so regally played the
mistress of this strange hermitage,
who was she?
And as Joan of Hohenstein blew out
the candle she unused in her heart
concerning these things.
The Duchess Joan slept soundly, her
dark, boyish head pillowed on the
full rounded curves of an arm thrown
behind her. On the little velvet
covered table beside the bed were her
belt and its dependent sword, faith
full companion in its sheath of plain
black leather. Under her pillow, and
within instant reach of her right hand,
was her fathers dagger.
In their chamber in the wing which
looks toward the north the three cap
tains lay wrapped in their nantes,
Jorian and Boris answering each other
nasally, in alternate trumpet blasts,
like Alp calling to Alp. Werner Won
Orseln, alone could not sleep, and
after he had sworn and kicked his
noisy companions in the ribs till he
was weary of the task, he rose and
went to the window to cast open the
lattice. The air within felt thick and
hot. AS Werner set his face to the
opening quick flashes of summer light.
ming famed alternately white and lilac
across the horizon, and he felt the
spit of hailstones in his face, driving
level like so many musketballs when
the infantry fires by platoons.
Above, in the vaulted chamber
Joan turned over on her bed, murmur
ing uneasily in her sleep. A white
face, which for quarter of an hour
had been bent down to her dark head
as it lay on the pillow, was suddenly
retracted into the darkness at the
girls slight movement.
Again, apparently treasured, the
shadowy visage approached as the
Young duchess Law without further
motion. Suddenly, and for no appar
ent reason, Joan's eyes opened, and
she found herself looking with be
wilderment into a face that bent
down upon her, white face which
somehow seemed to hang suspended