ss and the gasp and hiss of panting breaths;
writhing and twisting, stumbling and slipping, or suddenly still with
feet that gripped the sod, with bulging muscles, swelled and rigid,
that cracked beneath the strain, while eye glared death to eye. But
Beltane's iron fingers were fast locked, and little by little, slow but
sure, Tostig's swart head was tilting up and back, further and further,
until his forked beard pointed upwards--until, of a sudden, there brake
from his writhen lips a cry, loud and shrill that sank to groan and
ended in a sound--a faint sound, soft and sudden. But now, behold,
Tostig's head swayed loosely backwards behind his shoulders, his knees
sagged, his great arms loosed their hold: then, or he could fall,
Beltane stooped beneath and putting forth all his strength, raised him
high above his head, and panting, groaning with the strain, turned and
hurled dead Tostig down into the pool whose sullen waters leapt to a
mighty splash, and presently subsiding, whispered softly in the reeds;
and for a while no man stirred or spoke, only Beltane stood upon the
marge and panted.

Then turned he to the outlaws, and catching up his axe therewith
pointed downwards to that stilly pool whose placid waters seemed to
hold nought but a glory of floating stars.

"Behold," he panted, "here was an evil man--a menace to well-being,
wherefore is he dead. But as for ye, come tell me--how long will ye be
slaves?"

Hereupon rose a hoarse murmur that grew and grew--Then stood the man
Perkyn forward, and scowling, pointed at Beltane with his spear.

"Comrades!" he cried, "he hath slain Tostig! He hath murdered our
leader--come now, let us slay him!" and speaking, he leapt at Beltane
with levelled spear, but quick as he leapt, so leapt Walkyn, his long
arms rose and fell, and thereafter, setting his foot upon Perkyn's
body, he shook his bloody axe in the scowling faces of the outlaws.

"Back, fools!" he cried, "have ye no eyes? See ye not 'tis he of whom I
spake--he that burned Belsaye gallows and brake ope the dungeon of
Belsaye--that is friend to all distressed folk and broken men; know ye
not Beltane the Duke? Hear him, ye fools, hear him!"

Hereupon the outlaws stared upon Beltane and upon each other, and
fumbled with their weapons as men that knew not their own minds, while
Beltane, wiping sweat from him, leaned upon his axe and panted, with
the three at his elbow alert and watchful, eager for fight; but Perkyn
lay