t she sleep since even she is mortal and mortals must
sleep now and then. The Abbess? Come sit ye, lad, what time I tickle
the noses of these pestilent fish. Sit ye here beside me and tell me,
how think ye of this noble and most sweet lady?"

"That, for thy truancy, she will incontinent mix thee another sleeping
draught, Benedict."

"Ha--then I'll never drink it!" quoth Sir Benedict, settling his
shoulder against Beltane and frowning at his line. "Am I a babe,
forsooth, to be dosed to slumber? Ha, by the foul fiend his black dam,
ne'er will I drink it, lad!"

"Then will she smile on thee, sad-eyed, and set it to thy lip, and woo
thee soft-voiced, so shalt thou swallow it every drop--"

"Not so--dear blood of all the saints! Must I be mewed up within an
accursed bed on such a day and all by reason of a small axe-stroke?
Malediction, no!"

"She is wondrous gentle with the sick, Benedict--"

"She is a very woman, Beltane, and therefore gentle, a noble lady sweet
of soul and body! To die for such were joyful privilege, methinks, aye,
verily!" and Sir Benedict, forgetful of his line, drooped his head and
sighed.

"And thou didst know her well--long years agone, Benedict?"

"Aye, long--years--agone!"

"Very well, Benedict?"

"Very well."

"She was 'Yolande' then, Benedict?"

"Aye," quoth Sir Benedict, lifting his head with a start and looking at
Beltane askance, "and to-day she is the lady Abbess Veronica!"

"That shall surely dose thee again and--"

"Ha! bones and body o' me, not so! For here sit I, and here angle I,
fish or no fish, thunder o' God, yes! Aye, verily, here will I sit till
I have caught me a fish, or weary and go o' my own free will--by
Beelzebub I vow, by Bel and the Dragon I swear it! And furthermore--"

Sir Benedict paused, tilted his head and glancing up, beheld the lady
Abbess within a yard of them. Gracious she stood in her long white
habit and shook her stately head in grave rebuke, but beholding his
abashed look and how the rod sagged in his loosened hold, her lips
parted of a sudden and her teeth gleamed in a smile wondrous young and
pleasant to see.

"O Benedict!" said she, "O child most disobedient! O sir knight! Is
this thy chivalry, noble lord--to steal away for that a poor soul
must needs sleep, being, alas! so very mortal?"

"Forsooth and indeed, dear my lady," quoth Sir Benedict, fumbling with
his angle, "the sun did woo me forth--and the wind, see you--the wind--"

"Nay