to
her--"

"Why, verily--here was treachery--" quoth Beltane speaking slow and
soft, "truly here--methinks--was treachery--and wherefore?"

"O my lord, must I--tell this?"

"I do ask thee."

Then did Winfrida shrink within herself, and crouched yet further from
Sir Jocelyn as though his eyes had hurt her.

"Lord," she whispered, "I was--jealous! Duke Ivo wooed me long ere he
loved the Duchess Helen, so was I jealous. Yet was I proud also, for I
would suffer not his love until he had made me wife. And, upon a day,
he, laughing, bade me bring him captive this mighty man that defied his
power--that burned gibbets and wrought such deeds as no other man
dared, swearing that, an I did so, he would wed with me forthright. And
I was young, and mad with jealousy and--in those days--I knew love not
at all. But O, upon a day, I found a new world wherein Love came to me
--a love so deep and high, so pure and noble, that fain would I have
died amid the flame than thus speak forth my shame, slaying this
wondrous love by my unworthiness. Yet have I told my shame, and love is
dead, methinks, since I am known for false friend and traitor vile--a
thing for scorn henceforth, that no honourable love may cleave to. So
is love dead, and fain would I die also!"

Now, of a sudden, while yet Beltane frowned down upon her, came Sir
Jocelyn, and kneeling beside Winfrida, spake with bent head:

"Messire Beltane, thou seest before thee two that are one, henceforth.
So do I beseech thee, forgive us our trespass against thee, an it may
be so. But, if thy wrongs are beyond forgiveness, then will we die
together."

"O Jocelyn!" cried Winfrida breathlessly, "O dear my lord--surely never
man loved like thee! Lord Beltane, forgive--for this noble knight's
sake--forgive the sinful Winfrida!"

"Forgive?" said Beltane, hoarsely, "forgive?--nay, rather would I
humbly thank thee on my knees, for thou hast given back the noblest
part of me. She that was lost is found again, the dead doth live. Helen
is her noble self, and only I am vile that could have doubted her. The
happiest man, the proudest, and the most woeful, I, in all the world,
methinks. O kneel not to me--and pray you--speak on this matter no
more. Rise, rise up and get ye to your joy. Lady, hast won a true and
leal knight, and thou, Sir Jocelyn, a noble lady, who hath spoken truth
at hazard of losing her love. And I do tell ye, love is a very blessed
thing, greater than power, or honour