Of Beltane's Black and Evil Mood, And How He Fell In With the Witch of Hangstone Waste

"And dare ye name her 'wanton!'" he cried. "Ye shall not--I say ye shall not!" But, laughing, Beltane smote away the young knight's hold and laughed again.

"Is this light lady's fame so dear to thee, poor, youthful fool?" said he. "Aye me! doubt not her falsity shall break thy heart some day and teach thee wisdom--"

A shout among the woods upon their right, a twinkling light that came and went amid the underbrush, and Walkyn appeared, bearing a lighted brand.

"Lord," he growled, "here has been devil's work of late, for yonder a cottage lieth a heap of glowing ashes, and upon a tree hard by a dead man doth swing."

"Learned ye aught else, Walkyn?"

"Nothing, save that a large company passed here yesterday as I judge. Horse and foot--going south, see you," and he held his torch to the trampled road.

"Going south--aye, Walkyn, to Barham Broom, methinks. Here is another debt shall yet be paid in full, mayhap," quoth Beltane grimly. "Forward!"

The jingling column moved on again, yet had gone but a little way when Sir Fidelis, uttering a cry, swerved his horse suddenly and sprang to earth.

"What now?" questioned Beltane, staring into the murk.

"My lord--my lord, a woman lieth here, and--ah, messire--she is dead!"

"O, a woman?" quoth Beltane, "and dead, say you? Why then, the world shall know less of evil and treachery, methinks. Come--mount, sir knight, mount, I say, and let us on!"