entle. God bless thee, youthful sir, for 'tis well to meet with
gentleness within a world so cruel. Tell me, I pray, doth this road
lead unto Belsaye town?"

"Verily," answered Beltane, "but 'tis a long day's march thither."

"Yet needs must I reach there, since I do bear a message. But, O young
messire, when cruel men put out mine eyes, the good God, in His sweet
clemency, made sharp mine ears. So do I know thy voice, methinks, for
voice of one who, long months since, did cherish me in my need and
hunger, and sent me unto the saintly Ambrose."

"Ha!" cried Beltane joyously, "and is it thou indeed? Tell me, how doth
my father?--is he well?--what said he?--how looked he? O, I do yearn
for word of him!"

"Thy father? How, young sir, is he indeed thy father? Then is thy name
Beltane, for I have heard him name thee oft--"

"Forsooth, and did he so? But how came you here, and wherefore?"

"To seek thee, lord Beltane, according to thy saintly father's word.
And the manner of it, thus: As we sat together of a certain fair noon
within Holy Cross Thicket, there came to us thither a woman, young,
methinks, and fair, for her speech was soft and wondrous sweet in mine
ears. And she did hail thy father 'Duke,' and thereafter spake thy name
full oft, and so they fell to many words, walking together up and down
before the hut. Anon, sudden and silent as she came, she was gone, and
thy father walked full long, praying oft as one that rejoiceth greatly,
and oft as one in deep perplexity. In a while cometh he to me and gave
me scrip and therewith food and money, and bade me seek thee in Belsaye
and speak thee thus: 'Tell Beltane, my well-beloved, that I, his
father, have heard of his great and knightly deeds and that I do glory
in them, praising God. Say that through him my youth and strength are
renewed and my great sin made easier to bear. Tell him that the woes of
Pentavalon draw to an end, and that ere long she shall arise above her
sorrows. Bid him be of good courage yet a little longer, for the lion
is waked at last, and the leopard also.' Behold now, messire, all's
said." And the blind man stood with down-bent head, one hand grasping
the staff, his other arm hid within his wide sleeve, what time Roger
watched him furtive and askance, and moreover, his bow-stave shook and
quivered in his grasp; as for Beltane, he stood as one lost in happy
thought, upon his lips a smile ineffably tender. Smiling yet, he turned
and touched the