w
great peace and solace and a deep and utter content.

CHAPTER XLVIII

HOW BELTANE SET OUT FOR HANGSTONE WASTE

Day by day Beltane waxed in health and strength, and daily, leaning
upon Roger's trusty arm he walked further afield. And day by day, with
growing strength, so grew his doubt, and therewith, by times, a black
despond; for needs must he think ever of Helen the Beautiful, and fain
was he to tear her from his heart yet could not; then fain he would
have hated her, but in his ears her cry rang still--"God pity thee, my
Beltane!"--wherefore he was wont to fall to sudden gloom and
melancholy.

But upon a certain blithe evening Black Roger stood leaning on his
bow-stave to watch where Beltane swam the pool with mighty strokes, who,
laughing for very joy of it, presently sprang ashore, panting with his
exertions, and fell to donning his garments.

"How think ye, Roger," he cried, "am I fit to adventure me the world
again?"

"Forsooth, master, art well of thy wound and fever, and in a week or so
mayhap thou shalt perchance be well enough--"

"A week, Roger! I tell thee, man, this very day will I hence!"

"But, master," says Roger, shaking cautious head, "thy world is a world
of battles, and for battle art scarce yet strong enough--"

"Say ye so, Roger? Then here and now shalt make trial of me. Art a tall
and lusty fellow--come, man, let us try a fall together. And mark this,
Roger, an thou canst put me on my back shalt have thy will in the
matter, but, an I down thee, then hey! for horse and armour and the
forest-road this very night. Come, is't agreed?"

Now hereupon the wily Roger, noting the pallor of Beltane's sunken
cheek and how his broad breast laboured yet, and moreover feeling
himself aglow with lusty life and vigour, smiled grimly, nothing
doubting the issue. Wherefore he nodded his head.

"So be it, master," said he, "only take thy wind first." So saying he
set aside bow and quiver, loosed off his sword, and tightening his
belt, stepped towards Beltane, his broad back stooped, his knotted arms
advanced and fingers crooked to grapple. Once and twice he circled,
seeking a hold, then leapt he swift and low; arms and fingers clenched
and locked, and Beltane was bent, swayed, and borne from his feet; but
even so, with a cunning twist he brake Black Roger's hold and staggered
free. Quoth he:

"Art a very strong man, Roger, stronger than methought. Come again!"

Once more they circled heedfu