How Beltane Plighted His Troth In The Green

"Thou'rt hurt," said she, "so must we bide here awhile, thou to win thy strength again, and I to--minister unto thee."

Mutely awhile my Beltane gazed upon her shy, sweet loveliness, what time her bosom rose and fell tempestuous, and she bowed her head full low.

"Helen!" he whispered at last, "O, art thou indeed the Duchess Helen?"

"Not so," she murmured, "Helen was duchess whiles she was in Mortain, but I that speak with thee am a lonely maid--indeed a very lonely maid --who hath sighed for thee, and wept for thee, and for thee hath left her duchy of Mortain, Beltane."

"For me?" quoth Beltane, leaning near, "was it for me--ah, was it so in very sooth?"

"Beltane," said she, looking not toward him, "last night did'st thou bear a nun within thine arms, and, looking on her with love aflame within thine eyes, did yet vow to her you loved this duchess. Tell me, who am but a lonely maid, is this so?"

"Thou knowest I love her ever and always," he answered.

"And yet," quoth she, shaking her head and looking up with eyes of witchery, "thou did'st love this nun also? Though 'tis true thou did'st name her 'reverend mother'! O, wert very blind, Beltane! And yet thou did'st love her also, methinks?"

"Needs must I--ever and always!" he answered.

"Ah, Beltane, but I would have thee love this lonely maid dearest of all henceforth an it may be so, for that she is so very lonely and hath sought thee so long--"