"Nay," answered Morven, "thou knowest not what thou sayest; am I
not the favorite of the stars?"

"Away, I am no graybeard whom the approach of death makes
doting: talk not to inc of the stars; I know only the things
that my eye sees and my ear drinks in."

"Hush," said Morven, solemnly, and covering his face; "hush!
lest the heavens avenge thy rashness. But, behold, the stars
have given unto me to pierce the secret hearts of others; and I
can tell thee the thoughts of thine."

"Speak out, base-born!"

"Thou art the younger of two, and thy name is less known in war
than the name of thy brother; yet wouldst thou desire to be set
over his head, and to sit at the high seat of thy father?"

The young man turned pale.

"Thou hast truth in thy lips," said he, with a faltering voice.

"Not from me, but from the stars, descends the truth."

"Can the stars grant my wish?"

"They can; let us meet to-morrow." Thus saying, Morven passed
into the forest.