How Giles Cursed Belsaye Out Of Her Fear

"'Tis blasphemy unheard!" quoth Sir Brian.

"Save in the greenwood where men do breathe God's sweet air and live free!" said wry-necked Eric.

"And," spake Sir Benedict, stroking his square chin, "there is a fear can be quelled but by ridicule, so may thy wit, sir archer, avail more than our wisdom--an thou canst make these pale-cheeked townsfolk laugh indeed. How think you, my Beltane?"

"That being the wise and valiant knight thou art, Sir Benedict, thy will during the siege is law in Belsaye, henceforth."

Now hereupon Giles made his obeisance, and together with Roger and Walkyn and Ulf, hasted up to the battlement above the gateway.

"Benedict," said Sir Brian as they climbed the turret stair, "blasphemy is a dread and awful thing. We shall be excommunicate one and all-- better methinks to let the populace yield up the city and die the death, than perish everlastingly!"

"Brian," quoth Sir Benedict pausing, something breathless by reason of his recent sickness, "I tell thee fire and pillage and ravishment of women is a thing more dread and awful--better, methinks, to keep Innocence pure and unspotted while we may, and leave hereafter in the hands of God and His holy angels!"

Upon the tower there met them the Reeve, anxious of brow, who pointed where the townsfolk talked together in fearful undertones or clustered, mute and trembling, while every eye was turned where, in the open, 'twixt town and camp, a procession of black-robed priests advanced, chanting very solemn and sweet.