How Beltane Found Peace and a Great Sorrow

It had been an evening of cloud, but now the sky was clear and the moon shone bright and round as they reached that desolate, wind-swept heath that went by the name of Hangstone Waste, a solitary place at all times but more especially wild and awful 'neath the ghostly moon; wherefore Roger went wide-eyed and fearful, and kept fast hold of Beltane's stirrup.

"Ha--master, master!" cried he 'twixt chattering teeth, "did'st not hear it, master?"

"Nay," answered Beltane, checking his horse, "what was it? where away?"

"'Twas a cry, master--beyond the marsh yonder. 'Tis there again!"

"'Twas an owl, Roger."

"'Twas a soul, master, a poor damned soul and desolate! We shall see dire and dreadful sights on Hangstone Waste this night, master--holy Saint Cuthbert! What was yon?"

"Nought but a bat, Roger."

"A bat, lord? Never think so. Here was, belike, a noble knight or a lusty fellow be-devilled into a bat. Good master, let us go no further --if thou hast no thought for thyself, have a little heed for poor Roger."

"Why look ye, good Roger, canst go where thou wilt, but, as for me, I ride for the White Morte-stone."

"Nay then, an thou'rt blasted this night, master, needs must I be blasted with thee--yonder lieth the Morte-stone, across the waste. And now, may Saint Cuthbert and Saint Bede have us in their blessed care, Amen!"

So they began to cross the rolling desolation of the heath and presently espied a great boulder, huge and solitary, gleaming white and ghostly 'neath the moon.