, look at me with her eyes, touch me with
her soft, white, traitor's hands--answer me!"

"My lord, we are akin, she and I--of the same house and blood--"

"Then is thy blood foul with treachery!"

"Yet did I save thy life, Beltane!"

"Yet thy soft voice, thy red mouth and false eyes--thy very blood--all
these do prove thee traitor--hence!" and Beltane threw him off.

"Nay my lord!" he cried, "prithee take care, Beltane,--see--thou hast
displaced the bandage, thy wound bleedeth amain--so will I bind it up
for thee--"

But Beltane, nothing heeding, turned and strode back into the green and
there fell to donning his armour as swiftly as he might--albeit
stealthily. Thereafter came he to the destrier Mars and, having saddled
and bridled him with the same swift stealth, set foot in stirrup and
would have mounted, yet found this a painful matter by reason of his
wound; thus it befell, that, ere he could reach the saddle, the leaves
parted close by and Sir Fidelis spake soft-voiced:

"My lord Beltane, why dost thou steal away thus? An it be thy will to
leave me to perish alone here in the wilderness, first break thy fast,
and suffer me to bind up thy hurt, so shalt thou ride hence in
comfort." Now stood Beltane motionless and silent, nor turned nor dared
he look upon Sir Fidelis, but bowed his head in bitter shame, and,
therewith, knew a great remorse.

"Ah, Fidelis," said he at last, "thy rebuke stingeth deep, for it is
just, since I indeed did purpose thee a most vile thing! How vile a
thing, then, am I--"

"Nay, Beltane--dear my lord, I would not have thee grieve, indeed 'twas
but--"

"Once ere this I would have slain thee, Fidelis--murdered thee before
my wild fellows--I--I, that did preach them mercy and gentleness! To-day
I would have left thee to perish alone within this ravening
wilderness--that do bear so honourable a name! O Beltane, my father!
Yet, believe me, I did love honour once, and was accounted gentle. I
did set forth to do great things, but now--now do I know myself unfit
and most unworthy. Therefore, Sir Fidelis, do thou take the horse and
what thou wilt beside and leave me here, for fain am I to end my days
within these solitudes with no eye to see me more--save only the eye of
God!" So saying, Beltane went aside, and sitting 'neath a tree beside
the river, bowed his head upon his hands and groaned; then came Sir
Fidelis full swift, and stooping, touched his bowed head with gentle
hand, wherea