"Surely," replied the lawyer. "I have no thought of breaking my agreement. A promise is a debt, and I would ever keep my word. The laws that we make for others, we must ourselves obey"; and without delay he began this tale.

The merchants told him much about Rome, of the greatness of the buildings and the magnificence of the Emperor; but the beginning and end of every story was Lady Constance, the Emperor's fair daughter. "Never was there such a maiden since the world began," they said. "She is the most beautiful woman in the world, and yet she has no touch of pride. She is young, but, indeed, she has no foolish childishness. She is kind and charitable. She is the embodiment of courtesy, and her heart is the very chamber of purity."

The merchants returned to their homes, but their words did not fade from the memory of the Sultan. By day and by night he thought of the beautiful maiden, and at length he sent for his privy council and charged them upon their fealty to get him Constance for his wife. The privy councilors were at their wits' end. "It is some evil magic," they whispered to one another; but to the Sultan they said, "Sir, we are the faithful servants of our blessed prophet Mahomet; and we do greatly fear that no Christian ruler would give his daughter in marriage to one who obeys the prophet's laws."

But all the Sultan would reply was, "I will be christened rather than lose her. Keep your fears to yourselves and get me Constance."

Then there was much journeying to and fro. Ambassadors were sent to the Emperor and to the Pope and to men of mark either in the church or in knighthood; and ambassadors were sent from them to Syria. The Sultan agreed to become a Christian if he might have Constance; and finally, after much debate and discussion, it was decided that for the advantage of the true faith the Emperor's daughter should become the Sultan's wife. Then throughout Rome went the Emperor's command that every person in the town should pray most earnestly for a blessing upon the journey and the marriage.

Constance wept sorely that she must go far away from her home and friends to live among a barbarous people and become the wife of one whom she knew not; but the decree was passed. She said meekly, "Christ give me grace to obey his will," and she set to work in heaviness of heart to make ready for the marriage. When the day had come to take ship, she bade farewell to all and went on board; and with her went a long train of lords and ladies and knights and bishops and also a great weight of gold to be her dowry.

Now the wicked mother of the Sultan had done everything in her power to oppose the will of her son. When she saw that this was of no use, she planned to bring about by trickery what she could not accomplish by honest means. One night she secretly called her own councilors together, and when they had come, she took her seat and thus she spoke: "My lords, you all know that my son is about to prove false to the laws which God gave by his blessed apostle Mahomet; but as for me, I will tear the life from my body rather than the Koran from my heart. If you will follow my advice, I promise you that we shall dwell safely on earth to our days' end, and after that shall realize all the joys of heaven." Each one took a solemn oath that he would stand by her and would persuade as many of his friends as possible to do the same; and then she revealed her cruel plot. "First, we will let them baptize us as Christians—cold water will not hurt us—and after that I will give a feast; and the Sultan's wife shall be made so red that it will need a whole font of water to wash her white."

As the evil woman had planned, so it came to pass. She went to the palace of the Sultan and said with feigned sorrow, "My son, I grieve deeply that I have been a heathen so long a time. I will no longer believe in Mahomet, and I am ready to be baptized by a Christian priest. And grant," she pleaded, "that I may make a feast for the Christian folk. If they will but come to me, I will do my best to please them." The Sultan was so rejoiced that he hardly knew what to say. He fell upon his knees before her and with great joy he thanked her most heartily.

Now when the Christian folk had come to land, the whole Syrian kingdom turned out to meet them. There were vast crowds of Syrians and of Romans, all dressed in their richest array, but most brilliantly attired of all was the mother of the Sultan; and certainly no daughter could have been greeted more tenderly than was the gentle Constance by this enemy who plotted night and day for her ruin. And as for the Sultan himself, no words can tell the joy with which he welcomed his beautiful young bride.

After a little, the time was at hand when the Christians should be entertained by the mother of the Sultan. Truly, she had kept her word, for the tables were loaded with dainties from every part of the kingdom and from many a realm that was far away from the land of Syria. But suddenly the signal was given, and almost in a moment the Sultan and all the Christians at the board were struck down dead save Constance alone. The Sultaness, for by this murder of her son the wicked woman had made herself ruler of the kingdom, on that same day flung the helpless Constance into a rudderless vessel and thrust it out upon the sea. "Get to Italy as best you can," she cried pitilessly. The dowry that Constance had brought with her was put on board the ship, and by some one's kindness a store of clothes and of food was added.

When Constance found herself alone on the deep sea, she knelt down and upon her breast she made the sign of the cross, and piteously she begged, "O holy Christ, be with me, and when the day comes that the stormy waters shall swallow me, keep me, I pray, from the powers of evil, and bring me unto thy everlasting bliss."

Day after day went by until three years and more had passed. He who had saved her from the slaughter at the feast cared for her now, and kept her from all harm. The ship drifted on and on, far beyond the seas of Greece, and at length it floated through the strait that lies between the Moorish country and the land of Spain and out into the wide, wide ocean. One morning it came close to far Northumberland, and rising from the shore Constance saw a castle. A storm wind drove the ship upon a sandbar, and so fast was it that even the coming of the tide had no power to set it free. The constable of the castle saw the wreck, and he went down to the shore. There was the broken ship all beaten by the waves, and on its deck stood the weary, lonely woman, and with her the great treasure that had been her dowry. She begged for pity, and the good constable brought her tenderly to the shore. And when her feet first touched the land, she kneeled down and thanked her God with grateful heart for this mercy that He had shown her. While she knelt and prayed, the constable stood one side and wondered, for he and his were heathen, and so were all the folk of that part of the land.

The constable carried her home to his good wife Hermegild; and those kind people were so grieved to see the stranger's plight that they wept for pity and promised that she might abide with them as long as she would. She would give them no word of who she was or whence she came, but she was so kind and thoughtful and so ready to serve and please all who came near her that every one who even looked into her face had to love her, whether he would or not. Hermegild loved Constance as her life, and by and by it came to pass that Hermegild and Constance knelt together and offered up their prayers to the God of the Christians.

Now the heathen had overcome all that part of the country, and most of the Christian Britons had fled to Wales. Some few remained here and there in the land, but they did not venture to meet together to worship God, and dared not for their lives avow his followers. Not far from the castle gate were three of these, and one of them was old and blind. One summer's day the constable and Hermegild, his wife, and Constance, his guest, were walking together toward the sea, when they met this blind man, bowed and old and with his eyes tight closed. "For Christ's sweet sake," he cried, "give me my sight again! O Lady Hermegild, open mine eyes for the love of Christ!" Then Hermegild trembled lest her husband should hear the holy name and slay her; but Constance bade her be brave and heal the man if such were God's will. God gave her the power to open the blind man's eyes; and the constable cried in astonishment, "What does this mean?" Constance replied bravely, "Sir, this only shows the power of Christ to help his people out of the control of the evil one." And then she told him of the Christian faith so clearly and so earnestly that before the sun had set, the constable, too, had become Christ's humble follower.

In the town not far from the castle there dwelt a sinful knight, and when Constance refused his wicked love, he swore that she should die, and by a shameful death. One night when the constable was from home, this knight stole like a poisonous serpent to the chamber where Hermegild and Constance lay asleep. He crept softly to the bedside and with a silent stroke he cut the throat of Hermegild. Constance, wearied by her prayers and vigils, slept on quietly, and did not rouse even when the murderer laid the bloody knife close by her side.

The constable made no long tarrying, but came home soon and joyfully, for King Alla was to be his guest. And when he heard the piteous tale, he told it to his King, and also told him of Constance's coming to their land in a strange ship, alone upon the sea. The knight declared that she must have done the cruel deed, and Constance was so overcome with grief and fear and amazement, that she stood almost silent before her judge and had no word to say of her own innocence. Still, when the King looked upon her pure face, he could feel naught but pity. The people, too, declared that she could never have been guilty of such wickedness. "She is pure and good," they said, "and she loved the Lady Hermegild even as her life"; and so said every one that dwelt in the castle. The King would have proved her innocence or guilt by the test of battle; but the daughter of the mighty Emperor stood alone without a friend to serve her as her The King felt such pity that the tears dropped from his eyes; but justice must be done, and he said, "Bring me a book, and if this knight swear solemnly upon the book that Constance was the slayer of Hermegild, then shall a justice be straightway named to give her trial."

The book was brought, and the knight laid his hand upon it in all boldness. It contained the writings of the four Evangelists; and when the evil man had touched the holy volume and declared on solemn oath that Constance was a murderer, he suddenly fell to the ground like a stone, smitten by an unseen hand; and a voice was heard saying, "Thou hast wronged the daughter of my Holy Church." At such a marvel all the people were aghast, and all save Constance stood in deadly fear of what might happen. Then Constance told the King and all the other folk about the God whom she worshiped; and it came to pass that King Alla and many of the people of the place gave up their heathen worship from that day. The wicked knight was put to death; and when a space of time had passed, King Alla took fair Constance for his wife.

All in the land rejoiced at the marriage save one alone, and that was Donegild, the mother of the King. She was angry that her son should choose for his Queen a strange woman come from no one knew what corner of the world. Nevertheless, there was a wedding and a great feast with dancing and singing. Not long after the wedding King Alla was forced to go to Scotland to meet his enemies in battle. Before he went, he carried his wife to a bishop who was also his constable, and bade him keep watch and ward over her until his return.