head up-flung beneath her veil. So stood they
within that place of silence, while high above, the great window grew
luminous with coming day.

"Lady," said he again, "for thy sweet flowers, for thy sweeter thought
for one that is--gone, fain would I thank thee, for she who lieth here
I found, and loved, and have lost again a while. She did love all fair
things, so loved she the flowers, methinks; yet I, who have grieved for
my noble mother, ne'er thought to bring her flowers--this did need a
woman's gentle soul. So, for thy flowers, I do most truly thank thee."

Very still she stood, nor spake nor moved, save for the sweet hurry of
her breathing; and beholding her thus, of a sudden Beltane's heart
leapt and he fell a-trembling though wherefore he knew not, only
yearned he mightily to look beneath her veil. And now it seemed to him
that, in the stillness, she must needs hear the passionate throbbing of
his heart; twice would he have spoken yet could not; at last:

"Beseech thee," he whispered, "O beseech thee unveil, that I may behold
the face of one so tender to her that was my dear-loved mother--O
beseech thee!"

As he spake, he drew a swift pace nearer, hand outstretched in
supplication, but, because this hand shook and quivered so, he clenched
it, whereat the unknown shrank back and back and, turning swift and
sudden, was gone.

A while stood my Beltane, his head a-droop, and fell to wonderment
because of the so painful throbbing of his heart. Then knelt he above
his mother's grave with hands tight-clasped.

"Dear mother in heaven," he sighed, "being an angel, thou dost know all
my heart, its hopes and fears--thou hast seen me tremble--thou dost
know wherefore this my heart doth yearn so bitterly. O sweet mother
with God, plead thou on my behalf that I may be worthy her love--meet
to her embracements--fit for so great happiness. Angel of God, thou
dost know how great is my desire--how empty life without her--O
mother--aid me!"

In a while he arose and immediately beheld that which lay beyond his
mother's grave full in the radiance of the great east window--a thing
small and slender and daintily wrought; and stooping, he picked up a
little shoe. Of soft leather it was fashioned, cunningly pinked, and
sewn, here and there, with coloured silks; and as he stared down at it,
so small-seeming in his mailed hand, his heart leapt again, and again
his strong hand fell a-trembling. Of a sudden he raised his eyes to
he