forth the viands
upon a rough table that stood hard by, what time Beltane looked about
him.

"'Tis a wondrous hiding-place, this, Giles!" quoth he.

"Aye, verily, brother--a sweet place for hunted men such as we. Here be
caves and caverns enow to hide an army, and rocky passage-ways, narrow
and winding i' the dark, where we four might hold all Black Ivo's
powers at bay from now till Gabriel's trump--an we had food enow!"

Quoth Beltane:

"'Tis a fair thought that, and I've heard there be many outlaws in the
woods hereabouts?"

"Yea, forsooth. And each and every a clapper-claw, a rogue in faith. O
very lewd, bloody-minded knaves see ye now, that would have slain me
three days agone but for my comrade Walkyn. Scurvy dogs, fit for the
halter they be, in faith!"

"Ha!" quoth Beltane, thoughtful of brow. "They be wild men, meseemeth?"

"Desperate knaves, one and all; and look ye, they would have slain--"

"Aye?" nodded Beltane.

"All the off-scourings of town and village--and look ye, they would--"

"Aye," said Beltane.

"Thieves, rogues and murderers, branded felons, runaway serfs and
villeins--"

"'Tis well," said Beltane, "so shall they be my comrades henceforth."

"Thy comrades!" stammered the archer, staring in amaze--"thy comrades!
These base knaves that would have hanged me--me, that am free-born like
my father before me--"

"So, peradventure, Giles, will we make them free men also. Howbeit this
day I seek them out--"

"Seek them--'tis death!"

"Death let it be, 'tis none so fearful!"

"They will slay thee out of hand--a wild rabblement, lawless and
disordered!"

"So would I bring order among them, Giles. And thou shalt aid me."

"I--aid thee? How--would'st have me company with such vile carrion? Not
I, forsooth. I am a soldier, free-born, and no serf like Walkyn or
villein like Roger. But sure you do but jest, brother, so will I laugh
with thee--"

But now, very suddenly, Beltane reached out his long arm and seizing
Giles in mighty hand, dragged him to his knees; and Giles, staring up
in amaze, looked into the face of the new Beltane whose blue eyes
glared 'neath frowning brows and whose lips curled back from gleaming
teeth.

"Giles," said he softly, rocking the archer in his grasp, "O Giles
Brabblecombe o' the Hills, did I not save thy roguish life for thee?
Did not Walkyn and Roger preserve it to thee? So doth thy life belong
to Walkyn and to Roger and to me. Four men are we together, f