ould I but lure him into the green!"

"Yet methinks there is a surer way, master."

"How--as how, Roger?"

"Wed thou thy Duchess, and so bring down on him all the powers of
Mortain!"

"Roger, dost well know my mind on this matter; prate ye no more!"

"Then will I pray, master--so I do warn thee! Forsooth, I will this
night fall to work upon the good saint and plague him right prayerfully
that thy Duchess may come and save thee and thy Duchy in despite of
thee, and having made thee Duke of Pentavalon with her lances,
thereafter make thee Duke of Mortain in her own sweet body, for as I do
know--"

But Beltane was already descending the steep path leading down into the
great green hollow that lay all silent and deserted 'neath the ghostly
moon, where nought stirred in the windless air, where bush and tree
cast shadows monstrous and distorted, and where no sound brake the
brooding quiet save the murmurous ripple of the brook that flowed to
lose itself in the gloomy waters of that deep and sullen pool.

Swift and sure-treading as only foresters might, they descended the
steep, and lured by some elfin fancy, Beltane must needs come to stand
beside the pool and to stare down into those silent waters, very dark
by reason of that great tree 'neath whose writhen branches Tostig the
outlaw had fought and died; so stood Beltane awhile lost in
contemplation, what time Roger, drawing ever nearer his master's elbow,
shivered and crossed himself full oft.

"Come away, master," said he at last, low-voiced, "I love not this pool
at any time, more especially at the full o' the moon. On such nights
ghosts do walk! Tostig was an ill man in life, but Tostig's ghost
should be a thing to fright the boldest--prithee, come away."

"Go get thee to thy rest, Roger. As for me, I would fain think."

"But wherefore here?"

"For that I am so minded."

"So be it, master. God send thy thoughts be fair." So saying, Roger
turned where, on the further side of the Hollow, lay those caves 'neath
the rocky bank wherein the outlaws had been wont to sleep. But, of a
sudden, Beltane heard a hoarse scream, a gasp of terror, and Roger was
back beside him, his naked broad-sword all a-shake in his trembling
hand, his eyes wide and rolling.

"Master--O master!" he whimpered, "ghosts! 'neath the tree--Tostig--
the Dead Hand!"

"Nay, what folly is here, Roger?"

"Lord, 'twas the Dead Hand--touched me--on the brow--in the shadow
yonder! Aye--on the b