the wall with ram a-swing, I will make
their labour of no avail; you shall see me burn them with a devil's
brew I learned of in the foreign wars. So, let them come. Beltane!"

Thus, day in, day out, was roar of conflict about the walls of Belsaye
town, and ever Sir Benedict, with Beltane beside him, went to and fro,
quick of eye and hand, swift to foresee and counteract the tactics of
the besiegers, meeting cunning artifice with crafty strategem;
wheresoever was panic or pressing need there was Sir Benedict,
calm-voiced and serene. And Beltane, watching him thus, came to
understand why this man had withstood the powers of Duke Ivo all these
years, and why all men trusted to his judgment.

Thus, all day was rage of battle, but with the night peace came, since
in the dark men might not see to aim and slay each other. And by night
the folk of Belsaye made good their battered walls what time the
besiegers prepared fresh devices of attack. Every morning at sunrise it
was Beltane's custom to steal to the great minster and, soft-treading
despite his armour, come to his mother's grave to hold communion with
her in his prayers. And lo! upon that hallowed stone there always he
found fragrant flowers, roses and lilies, new-gathered, upon whose
sweet petals the dew yet sparkled, and ever his wonder grew.

More than once he had thought to hear again that indefinable stir and
whisper the which had thrilled him on that first morning, and, starting
up, he would peer into the vague shadows. Twice he had thought to see a
draped figure bending above that long, white stone, a veiled figure
slender and graceful, that upon his approach, soft though it was,
flitted swiftly into the dark recesses of the choir. Once he had
followed, and stood amazed to see it vanish through the carven
panelling, though door could he find none. Therefore was he sore
perplexed and oft would touch the dewy flowers as half expecting they
should vanish also. Now upon a certain dawn he had hid himself within
the shadows and waited with bated breath and heart strangely a-throb.
And with the day-spring she came again, tall and gracious in her
clinging draperies and long green veil. Then, even as she bent to lay
the flowers upon the grave came Beltane, soft of foot, and spake ere
she was 'ware of him.

"Lady--!" now though his voice was very low and gentle she started, the
flowers fell from her loosened clasp, and, after a moment, she turned
and fronted him, proud