"This is no Frankish arrow."
"Nor Vascon!" stammered Lupus.
Olvir smiled darkly. "Lay it to some chance band of outland thieves, lord king. No others would be so base. And now, enough of treachery and bitterness! May all turn again to the merrymaking. I would not be a mar-joy."
Karl nodded gravely and rolled the poisoned arrow in his kerchief. Then he sank back again upon his couch, and gave command: "The count says well. Let the feast go on."
But Olvir stood waiting beside his place.
"What more?" demanded Karl.
"Does the host question my feast-dress?"
"I? No! What does my lord count mean?" exclaimed Lupus. "I welcome you gladly, in steel or in silk. Feast and be merry!"
"As you bid, lord duke," replied Olvir, smiling; but as he stretched out on the couch his eyes sparkled with another look than friendship.
"So; the wily snake! Not my cup alone shall taste of gall."