sorrow do
rise to find our nobler selves?"

"Aye verily! 'Tis but by sorrow and suffering our strength or weakness
groweth manifest, Beltane."

"Yet--O Benedict--I did doubt her--plied her with scornful tongue and--
drave her lonely from me!"

"And dost grieve amain, and sorrow therefore, O youth!"

"Yea, indeed, indeed--sleeping and waking!"

"And do yearn to woo her to forgiveness on thy knees, to crush her in
thine arms and kiss her breath away, O Lover?"

"Aye, dear Sir Benedict, in such sort and so greatly that my passion
oft doth fright me, so fiercely do I yearn and long--yet tremble and
grow faint at thought of it!"

"Yet art thou here, bedight in arms, O man--thy yearning body far
removed from all temptation till thou hast proved thee worthy her
embrace! And thus it is I know thee for a man, my Beltane!"

"And thou, Benedict, thou hast yearned and trembled with love ere now,
thou hast been a lover once, methinks?" But here Sir Benedict fell to
silence, walking with face averted and gaze bent towards the dewy
grass, and quickened his steps until they were come nigh unto the camp.
Then lifted he his head; quoth he:

"My lord Beltane, how think you of this thy new-found company?"

"Men--ha! men, good Benedict--soldiers born and bred!"

"Forsooth, and 'neath mine own eye, Beltane. There is not one but I
have watched him in the stress of battle. Body o' me, but I have chosen
needfully, there is none but hath proved his worthiness! See you the
little man yonder, in half-mail with sword as great as himself--he that
pipeth shrill-voiced as a boy? 'Tis Prat who alone stood off a score
what time I lay wounded and pinned beneath my charger. Mark ye yon
lusty fellow beside him? 'Tis Cnut that, single-handed, hewed him a
path through Ivo's battle and bare away his own banner, the which doth
grace my hall at Thrasfordham e'en now. And yonder is Dirk that was a
slave, yet fighteth like a paladin. And there again is Siward, that
with his brother maintained the sallyport 'gainst Ivo's van what time
they drave us from the outer bailey. And yonder Cedric--but so could I
name them each and every--ha! there sounds the welcome tucket! Come,
let us break our fast, and there be many knights and esquires and
gentles of degree do wait to pay thee homage."

So presently came they into the midst of the camp, where, seated on the
mossy ling, hungry and expectant, were many noble lords and gentle
knights and esquires of degre