“She lured me into the bog with devil-fires!” cried Gurth.

“And would thou had’st rotted there!” quoth Giles o’ the Bow, edging nearer.  Now hereupon the maid turned and looked at Giles through the silken curtain of her black and glossy hair, and beholding the entreaty of that look, the virginal purity of those wide blue eyes, the archer stood awed and silent, his comely face grew red, grew pale—­then, out flashed his dagger and he crouched to spring on Gurth; but, of a sudden, Beltane rode in between, at whose coming a shout went up and thereafter a silence fell.  But now at sight of Beltane, the witch-maid uttered a strange cry, and shrinking beneath his look, crouched upon her knees and spake in strange, hushed accents.

“Messire,” she whispered, “mine eyes do tell me thou art the lord Beltane!”

“Aye, ’tis so.”

“Ah!” she cried, “now glory be and thanks to God that I do see thee hale and well!” So saying, she shivered and covered her face.  Now while Beltane yet stared, amazed by her saying, the bushes parted near by and a hooded figure stepped forth silent and soft of foot, at sight of whom all men gave back a pace, and Roger, trembling, drew a second cross in the dust with his bow-stave, what time a shout went up: 

“Ha!—­the Witch—­’tis the witch of Hangstone Waste herself!”

Very still she stood, looking round upon them all with eyes that glittered ’neath the shadow of her hood; and when at last she spake, her voice was rich and sweet to hear.

“Liar!” she said, and pointed at Gurth a long, white finger, “unhand her, liar, lest thou wither, flesh and bone, body and soul!” Now here, once again, men gave back cowering ’neath her glance, while Roger crossed himself devoutly.

“The evil eye!” he muttered ’twixt chattering teeth, “cross thy fingers, Giles, lest she blast thee!” But Gurth shook his head and laughed aloud.

“Fools!” he cried, “do ye forget?  No witch hath power i’ the sun!  She can work no evil i’ the sunshine.  Seize her!—­’tis an accursed hag—­ seize her!  Bring her to the water and see an she can swim with a stone at her hag’s neck.  All witches are powerless by day.  See, thus I spit upon and defy her!”

Now hereupon a roar of anger went up and, for that they had feared her before, so now grew they more fierce; a score of eager hands dragged at her, hands that rent her cloak, that grasped with cruel fingers at her long grey hair, bending her this way and that; but she uttered no groan nor complaint, only the maid cried aloud most pitiful to hear, whereat Giles, dagger in hand, pushed and strove to come at Gurth.  Then Beltane alighted from his horse and parting the throng with mailed hands, stood within the circle and looking round upon them laughed, and his laugh was harsh and bitter.

“Forsooth, and must ye war with helpless women, O men of Pentavalon?” quoth he, and laughed again right scornfully; whereat those that held the witch relaxed their hold and fain would justify themselves.