staggered free.

Straightway the air was full of shouts and cries, some praising, some
condemning, while Gefroi stood with hanging arms and panted. But
Beltane looking upon his hurt, laughed, short and fierce, and as Gefroi
came upon him, stooped and caught him below the loins. Then Beltane the
strong, the mighty, put forth his strength and, whirling Gefroi aloft,
hurled him backwards over his shoulder. So Gefroi the wrestler fell,
and lay with hairy arms wide-tossed as one that is dead, and for a
space no man spake for the wonder of it.

"By all the Saints, but 'twas a mighty throw!" sighed Sir Jocelyn,
"though alack! sweet my lord, 'twould almost seem my forester hath
something spoiled thy wrestler!"

"And is the roan stallion thine" frowned the Duke, "and to none would I
lose him with a fairer grace, for 'twas a good bout as I foretold: yet,
by the head of St. Martin! meseemeth yon carrion might have done me
better!" So saying, my lord Duke gave his horse the spur and, as he
passed the prostrate form of Gefroi, leaned him down and smote the
wrestler thrice with the whip he held and so rode on, bidding his
followers let him lie.

But Sir Jocelyn paused to look down at Beltane, who was setting his
dress in order.

"Sir forester, thou hast a mighty arm," quoth he, "and thy face liketh
me well. Here's for thee," and tossing a purse to Beltane's feet, he
rode upon his way.

So the gay cavalcade passed 'neath the leafy arches, with the jingle of
bridle and stirrup and the sound of jest and laughter, and was
presently lost amid the green; only Gefroi the wrestler lay there upon
his back and groaned. Then came Beltane and knelt and took his heavy
head upon his knee, whereat Gefroi opened his eyes and groaned again.

"Good fellow," said Beltane, "I had not meant to throw thee so heavily--"

"Nay, forester, would it had been a little harder, for a ruined man am
I this day."

"How so--have you not life?"

"I would 'twere death. And I bit you--in the arm, I mind me?"

"Aye, 'twas in the arm."

"For that am I heartily sorry, forester. But when a man seeth fame and
fortune slipping from him--aye, and his honour, I had nigh forgot that--
fame and fortune and honour, so small a thing as a bite may be
forgiven?"

"I forgive thee--full and freely."

"Spoke like an honest forester," said Gefroi, and groaned again. "The
favour of a lord is a slippery thing--much like an eel--quick to
wriggle away. An hour agone my lor