animal to slow and leisured
gait. And presently, a gentle wind arose, that came and went, to fan
brow and cheek and temper the sun's heat.

And now, as they rode through sunlight and shadow, Beltane felt his
black mood slowly lifted from him and knew a sense of rest, a content
unfelt this many a day; he looked, glad-eyed, upon the beauty of the
world about him, from green earth to an azure heaven peeping through a
fretted screen of branches; he marked the graceful, slender bracken
stirring to the soft-breathing air, the mighty boles of stately trees
that reached out sinuous boughs one to another, to touch and twine
together amid a mystery of murmuring leaves. All this he saw, yet
heeded not at all the round-mailed arms that clasped him in their soft
embrace, nor the slender hands that held upon his girdle.

So rode they through bosky dell and dingle, until the sun, having
climbed the meridian, sank slowly westwards; and Sir Fidelis spake
soft-voiced:

"Think you we are safe at last, my lord?"

"Fidelis," saith Beltane, "Yest're'en did'st thou name me selfish,
to-day, a babe, and, moreover, by thy disobedience hast made my schemes
of no avail--thus am I wroth with thee."

"Yet doth the sun shine, my lord," said Sir Fidelis, small of voice.

"Ha--think you my anger so light a thing, forsooth?"

"Messire, I think of it not at all."

"By thy evil conduct are we fugitives in the wilderness!"

"Yet is it a wondrous fair place, messire, and we unharmed--which is
well, and we are--together, which is--also well."

"And with but one beast to bear us twain!"

"Yet he beareth us strong and nobly, messire!"

"Fidelis, I would I ne'er had seen thee."

"Thou dost not see me--now, lord--content you, therefore," saith
Fidelis softly, whereat Beltane must needs twist in the saddle, yet saw
no more than a mailed arm and shoulder.

"Howbeit," quoth Beltane, "I would these arms o' thine clasped the
middle of any other man than I."

"Forsooth, my lord? And do they crush thee so? Or is it thou dost pine
for solitude?"

"Neither, youth: 'tis for thy youth's sake, for, though thou hast
angered me full oft, art but a very youth--"

"Gramercy for my so much youthfulness, my lord. Methinks I shall be
full long a-growing old--"

"Heed me, sir knight, 'tis a fell place this, where direful beasts do
raven--"

"Nathless, messire, my youthfulness is but where it would be--"

"Aye, forsooth, and there it is! Where thou would's