when I have spoke thee all, thou
wilt slay me, then--O my lord--I pray thee--let death come swift--"

"Master!" cried Roger of a sudden, "I hear horses--they be after us
already! Mount--mount and let us ride--Hark! they come this way!"

"Aye!" nodded Beltane, drawing his sword, "yet here is but one
methinks--list, Roger--leave him to me!" So waited they all three, what
time the slow-pacing hoofs drew near and nearer, until, peering through
the leaves, they beheld a knight, who rode low-stooping in his saddle,
to mark their tracks plain upon the tender grass. Forth stepped
Beltane, fierce and threatening, his long sword agleam, and so paused
to scowl, for the knight raised his head of a sudden and lo! 'twas Sir
Fidelis.

"Now what seek ye here, sir knight?" saith Beltane, nothing gentle.

"Thee, my lord," quoth Fidelis, meek of aspect, "to share thy perils
according to thy word. Put up thy sword, messire, thou wilt not harm
thy companion in arms?"

Now Beltane, finding nought to say, scowled sulkily to earth, and thus
saw nothing of the eyes so deep and tender that watched him 'neath the
shadow of the young knight's bascinet, nor the smile so sad and wistful
that curled his ruddy lips, nor all the lithe and slender grace of him
as he swayed to the impatient movements of the powerful animal he
bestrode; but it chanced that Winfrida's eyes saw all this, and being a
woman's eyes, beheld that which gave her breathing sudden pause--turned
her red--turned her pale, until, with a gasp of fear she started, and
uttering a cry, low and inarticulate, sped fleet-footed across the
glade and was gone.

Quoth Beltane, staring:

"Now what aileth the maid, think ye? But 'tis no matter--we are well
quit of her, meseemeth." So saying, he turned to behold Roger flat upon
his belly and with his ear to the ground.

"Master," cried he, "master, there be horsemen i' the forest
hereabouts--a great company!"

"Why then, do you mount, Roger, and hie thee with Sir Fidelis hot-foot
to Walkyn at Hundleby Fen. Bid him set our bowmen in every place of
vantage, and let every man stand to arms. So mayhap, Roger, will we
this day make hunted men of them that hunt!" So saying, Beltane swung
to saddle.

"Aye--aye--but what o' thee, master?"

"Mark ye this horse, Roger. Thou hast said 'twas of good speed and
endurance, and methinks 'tis sooth. Howbeit, now shall he prove thy
word, for here I wait the hunters, and to-day will I, keeping ever ou