ow suddenly the noise about him ceased, all voices
were hushed, and he was aware of one who stood near by, a doleful
figure swathed in bandages, who leaned upon the arm of a tall esquire.
And looking upon this figure, he saw it was Sir Pertolepe the Red.

"Ha, by the eyes of God!" quoth Sir Pertolepe, "'tis he himself--O
sweet sight--see, I grow better already! Who brought him, say you?"

"Lord, 'twas the Duchess Helen!" said one. "Helen!" cried Sir
Pertolepe, "Helen of Mortain?" "Aye, lord, as her wedding gift to our
lord Duke Ivo." Now hereupon Beltane's staring eyes closed, the great
muscles of his body twitched and writhed and stood out gnarled and
rigid awhile, then he sighed, a slow, hissing breath, and lay there
staring up wide-eyed at the vaulted roof again.

"Came she herself, Raoul?"

"Aye, good my lord."

"Why, then--admit her. God's love, messires, would ye keep the glorious
Helen without?"

"Lord, she is gone--she and her ape-man both."

"Gone? Gone, forsooth? 'Tis strange, and yet 'tis like the wilful
Helen. Yet hath she left her wedding gift in my keeping. O a rare gift,
a worthy gift and most acceptable. Strip me off his armour--yet no, as
he came, so shall he bide until my lord Duke be come. Bring now
shackles, strong and heavy, bring fetters and rivets, so will I sit
here and see him trussed."

And presently came two armourers with hammers and rivets, and shackled
Beltane with heavy chains, the while Sir Pertolepe, sitting near,
laughed and spake him right jovially.

But Beltane suffered it all, uttering no word and staring ever straight
before him with wide, vague eyes, knitting his brow ever and anon in
troubled amaze like a child that suffers unjustly; wherefore Sir
Pertolepe, fondling his big chin, frowned.

"Ha!" quoth he, "let our Duke that hath no duchy be lodged secure--to
the dungeons, aye, he shall sleep with rats until my lord Duke Ivo come
to see him die--yet stay! The dungeons be apt to sap a man's strength
and spirit, and to a weak man death cometh over soon and easy. Let him
lie soft, feed full and sleep sound--let him have air and light, so
shall he wax fat and lusty against my lord Duke's coming. See to it,
Tristan!"

So they led Beltane away jangling in his fetters, across divers
courtyards and up a narrow, winding stair and thrust him within a
chamber where was a bed and above it a loop-hole that looked out across
a stretch of rolling, wooded country. Now being come to