BELTANE.  “And thou dost laugh, surly Roger—­oft-times for little reason, meseemeth.”

ROGER.  “For that my heart is renewed within me, master.  Happiness is my bedfellow and companion—­here is good reason for laughter, methinks.”

BELTANE.  “And wherefore art thou happy, Roger?”

ROGER.  “Item first:  thou dost mend apace, lord.  Item second:  this mess of venison hath a savour most delectable.  Item third:  happiness is the birthright of every man.  Moreover I have learned that behind the blackest cloud is a glory of sun, and beyond sorrow, joy.  So do I rejoice that all is like to be well with thee.”

BELTANE (bitterly).  “Well with me, say you?  Is Pentavalon free, Roger?  Do I not lie here, weak and helpless—­my company scattered?  O, call you this well, forsooth?”

ROGER. “’Tis true thou art weak as yet, master, but thou shalt rise again stronger than aforetime—­aye, thou shalt arise indeed, and all Pentavalon with thee.  So let thine heart rejoice and sing, as mine doth.”

BELTANE (fiercely).  “O evil day, that ere I gave my heart to woman’s love, so do I lie here a useless thing—­O day accursed!”

ROGER.  “O day most blessed, since woman’s love hath lifted thee from death and shall be thy glory and Pentavalon’s salvation, master!”

BELTANE (eagerly).  “Roger—­Roger, speak you of the Duchess Helen?  What mean you, man?”

ROGER.  “There be signs and portents, master, the very air is full o’ them.  Whiles we tarry here, others be up and doing—­”

BELTANE.  “Others, Roger?”

ROGER.  “Notably Walkyn o’ the Axe, master!”

BELTANE.  “Ha! and what of Walkyn?”

ROGER.  “He smiled, master, as I told thee ere this, and when Walkyn smileth it behoveth others to be wary.  So now do I tell thee that Walkyn hath taken and burned Duke Ivo’s great Castle of Brandonmere, that Winisfarne city hath risen ’gainst the Duke and all the border villages likewise—­aha! master, there be scythe-blades and good brown bills a-twinkle all along the marches eager to smite for freedom and Pentavalon when time is ripe!”

BELTANE (rising upon his knees).  “Forsooth, is this so?  O Roger, is this so in very truth?”

ROGER. “’Tis very truth, master.  Upon my sword I swear it!”

BELTANE.  “But whence had ye the wondrous news—­how—­when?”

ROGER.  “Master, ’twas three nights agone, as I wrestled prodigiously in prayer on thy behalf, one came to me and spake me many things marvellous good to hear.  Moreover, I have met divers folk within the greenwood and upon the forest-road yonder, and with all do I hold converse.”

Then to Roger’s amaze Beltane rose up, and standing square upon his feet lifted hands and eyes to heaven.  “Now glory be to the living God,” quoth he, “that hath heard the prayers of such as I. So now do I swear, come life, come death, to walk my appointed way sword in hand, henceforth, nor will I turn aside for man or woman, heeding not the lure of friendship or of love.  I do swear never to look upon a woman to love—­”