him. His features were strong but very grave, and the prince caught a
look of compassion in his eye as their gaze met. His skin was fair
and without blemish, a robe of silver cloth fell from his shoulders,
and in his right hand he bore a gleaming sword.

"Well met!" cried Marvel, heartily, as he bowed to the Fool-Killer.
"I have often heard your name mentioned, but 'tis said in the world
that you are a laggard in your duty."

"Had I my way," answered the Fool-Killer, "my blade would always drip.
It is my master, yonder, who thwarts my duty." And he nodded toward
King Terribus.

"Then you should exercise your right on him, and cleave the ugly head
from his shoulders," declared the prince.

"Nay, unless I interfered with the Fool-Killer," said the king, "I
should soon have no subjects left to rule; for at one time or another
they all deserve the blade."

"Why, that may be true enough," replied Prince Marvel. "But I think,
under such circumstances, your Fool-Killer is a needless servant. So
I will rid you of him in a few moments."

With that he whipped out his sword and stood calmly confronting the
Fool-Killer, whose grave face never changed in expression as he
advanced menacingly upon his intended victim. The blades clashed
together, and that of the Fool-Killer broke short off at the hilt. He
took a step backward, stumbled and fell prone upon the rocky floor,
while Prince Marvel sprang forward and pressed the point of his sword