shine gazing wistfully beyond the swaying tree-tops, Beltane would
oft start and turn his head, fancying the rustle of her garments in
his ears, or her voice calling to him from some flowery thicket; and
the wind in the trees whispered "Helen!" and the brook sang of Helen,
and Helen was in his thoughts continually.

Thus my Beltane forgot his loves the flowers, and sang no more the
wonders of the forest-lands.

And oft-times the Duchess, seated in state within her great hall of
Mortain looking down upon her knights and nobles, would sigh, for none
was there so noble of form nor so comely as Beltane the Smith. Hereupon
her white brow would grow troubled and, turning from them all, she
would gaze with deep, unfathomable eyes, away across the valley to
where, amid the mystery of the trees, Beltane had his lonely dwelling.

Wherefore it was, that, looking up one evening from where he sat busied
with brush and colours upon a border of wondrous design, Beltane beheld
her of whom he was dreaming; and she, standing tall and fair before
him, saw that in his look the which set her heart a-fluttering at her
white breast most strangely; yet, fearing she should betray aught of
it, she laughed gaily and mocked him, as is the way of women, saying:

"Well, thou despiser of Love, I hearkened vainly for thy new song as I
rode hither through the green."

Red grew my Beltane's cheek and he looked not to her as he answered:

"Lady, I have no new song."

"Why then, is thy lesson yet unlearned?" said she. "Have ye no love but
for birds and flowers?" and her red lip curled scornfully.

Quoth Beltane:

"Is there aught more worthy?"

"O Beltane!" she sighed, "art then so simple that such will aye content
thee; doth not thy heart hunger and cry within thee for aught beside?"

Then Beltane bowed his head, and fumbled with his brush and dropped it,
and ere he could reach it she had set her foot upon it; thus it chanced
that his hand came upon her foot, and feeling it beneath his fingers,
he started and drew away, whereat she laughed low and sweet, saying:

"Alack, and doth my foot affright thee? And yet 'tis none so fierce and
none so large that thou shouldst fear it thus, messire--thou who art so
tall and strong, and a mighty wrestler withal!"

Now, looking up, he saw her lips curved and scarlet, and her eyes
brimful of laughter, and fain would he have taken up the brush yet
dared not. Therefore, very humbly, she stooped and lifting