at no man might ever have her to his love
--save only--thou. So, an thou love her not, Beltane, needs must she--
die a maid!"

Now Beltane forgot his weakness and rose to his knees and lifted her
bowed head until he might look deep within the yearning tenderness of
her eyes. A while she met his look, then blushing, trembling, all in a
moment she swayed toward him, hiding her face against him; and,
trembling also, Beltane caught her close within his arms and held her
to his heart.

"Dost thou love me so, indeed, my lady? Art thou mine own henceforth,
Helen the Beautiful?"

"Ah, love," she murmured, "in all my days ne'er have I loved other man
than thou, my Beltane. So now do I give myself to thee; in life and
death, in joy and sorrow, thine will I be, beloved!"

Quoth Beltane:

"As thou art mine, so am I thine, henceforth and forever."

And thus, kneeling together within the wilderness did they plight their
troth, low-voiced and tremulous, with arms that clasped and clung and
eager lips that parted but to meet again.

"Beltane," she sighed, "ah, Beltane, hold me close! I've wearied for
thee so long--so long; hold me close, beloved. See now, as thou dost
hate the pomp and stir of cities, so, for thy sake have I fled hither
to the wilderness, to live with thee amid these solitudes, to be thy
love, thy stay and comfort. Here will we live for each other, and, hid
within the green, forget the world and all things else--save only our
great love!"

But now it chanced that, raising his head, Beltane beheld his long
sword leaning against a tree hard by, and beholding it thus, he
bethought him straightway of the Duke his father, of Pentavalon and of
her grievous wrongs; and his clasping hands grew lax and fell away and,
groaning, he bowed his head; whereat she started anxious-eyed, and
questioned him, soft and piteous:

"Is it thy wound? I had forgot--ah, love, forgive me! See here a pillow
for thy dear head--" But now again he caught her to him close and
fierce, and kissed her oft; and holding her thus, spake:

"Thou knowest I do love thee, my Helen? Yet because I love thee
greatly, love, alas, must wait awhile--"

"Wait?" she cried, "ah, no--am I not thine own?"

"'Tis so I would be worthy of thee, beloved," he sighed, "for know that
I am pledged to rest not nor stay until my task be accomplished or I
slain--"

"Slain! Thou?"

"O, Helen, 'tis a mighty task and desperate, and many perchance must
die ere this m