s softly plucked by skilled and cunning fingers,
and thereafter a man's voice, rich and melodious, brake forth into
tender singing: and the words were these:--

"O moon! O gentle moon, to-night
Unveil thy softest, tend'rest light
Where feet I love, so small and white,
Do bear my love to me!"

"Stand up, Roger, here is nought to harm us, methinks," quoth Beltane
softly, "stand up, and hold my bridle."

"But see now, master, there be devil-goblins a many that do pipe like
very angels."

"Nathless here's one that I must speak with," said Beltane, slipping to
earth and looking about him with wondering eyes, for the voice had
seemed to come from the grass at his feet. And while he yet sought to
and fro in frowning perplexity the melodious voice brake forth anew:

"O little feet, more white than snow,
If through the thorny brake ye go,
My loving heart I'll set below
To take the hurt for thee."

Now as the voice sank and the lute-strings quivered to silence,
Beltane, coming behind the great rock, beheld a glow, very faint and
feeble, that shone through thick-clustering leaves; and, putting aside
a whin-bush that grew against the rock, perceived a low and narrow
alley or passage-way leading downwards into the earth, lighted by a
soft, mellow beam that brightened as he advanced and presently showed
him a fair-sized chamber cunningly hollowed within the rock and adorned
with rich furs and skins. And behold one who reclined upon a couch of
skins, a slender, youthful figure with one foot wondrously be-wrapped
and swathed, who, beholding Beltane's gleaming mail, sprang up very
nimbly and fronted him with naked sword advanced.

"Nay, hast forgot thy friend, Sir Jocelyn?"

Incontinent the sword was tossed aside, and with a joyous cry Sir
Jocelyn sprang and caught him in close embrace.

"Now by sweet Venus her downy dove--'tis Beltane!" he cried. "Now
welcome and thrice welcome, my lordly smith, thou mighty son of noble
father. Ah, lord Duke, I loved thee that day thou didst outmatch Gefroi
the wrestler in the green. Since then much have I learned of thee and
thy valiant doings, more especially of Barham Broom--how thou didst
slay the vile Sir Gilles 'neath the eyes of Ivo and all his powers and
thereby didst snatch from shame and cruel death one that is become the
very heart of me, so needs must I love and honour and cherish thee so
long as I be Jocelyn and thou thy noble self. Come, sit ye--si