"How--how know you him?" Panic was in the voice.
The other laughed unpleasantly. "Doth not the whole district know the Lord
Oeil-de-Veau by reputation?" She held out the image. "Handle him carefully
and use a fresh pin for each record."
The maid snatched it from her hands and was turning towards the door of the
hut when a low tap on its outer surface caused her to shrink back alarmed.
The witch had again been watching her with an ambiguous smile. "Should
Moddam wish to avoid observation," she suggested, "the side exit behind
yonder curtain--" In an instant she was alone. Flinging the empty wallet
into the darkest corner the witch (not without sundry chuckles) slowly
unbarred the entrance.
On the threshold stood a slim female figure enveloped in a cloak. "The love
potion I had here last week," began a timid voice, "seems hardly
satisfactory. If you stock a stronger quality, no matter how expensive--"
"Step inside," said the witch.
* * * * *
Some couple of months later the ladies of the house-party assembled at
Sangazure Castle for the Victory jousts were gathered in the great hall,
exchanging gossip and serf-stories in the firelight while awaiting the
return of their menkind.
"Hath any heard," lisped one fair young thing, "how fareth the Lord
Oeil-de-Veau? They tell me that some mysterious ailment hath him in
thrall.
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