“I was so—­so fearful for thee, my lord.”

“Aye, and what more?”

“And very sorrowful—­”

“Aye, and what more?”

“And—­heartsick—­”

“Aye, sweet my wife—­but what more?”

“And—­very lonely, Beltane—­”

Then my Beltane caught her close and kissed her full long, until she struggled in his embrace and slipping from him, stood all flushed and breathless and shy-eyed.  But of a sudden she caught his hand and pointed where, before the glittering ranks of Mortain’s chivalry, a herald advanced.

“Look, Beltane,” she said, “oh, look and tell me who rideth yonder!”

Now behind this herald two knights advanced, the one in glittering armour whose shield was resplendent with many quarterings, but beholding his companion, Beltane stared in wondering awe; for lo! he saw a tall man bedight in sable armour who bore a naked sword that flashed in the sun and who bestrode a great, white charger.  And because of Friar Martin’s dying words, Beltane stood awed and full of amaze.

Nearer and nearer they came until all men might read the cognizance upon the first knight’s resplendent shield and know him for one Sir Jocelyn, lord of Alain, but his companion they knew not, since neither charge nor blazon bore he of any sort.  Of a sudden the herald set clarion to lip and blew a challenge that was taken up and answered from within the camp, and forth came Duke Ivo, bare-headed in his armour and with knights attendant, who, silencing the heralds with a gesture, spake loud and fierce.

“Sir Jocelyn, lord of Alain, why come ye against me in arms and so ungently arrayed, wherefore come ye in such force, and for what?”

Then answered Sir Jocelyn: 

“My lord Ivo, thou wert upon a time our honoured guest within Mortain, thou didst with honeyed word and tender phrase woo our fair young Duchess to wife.  But—­and heed this, my lord!—­when Helen the Beautiful, the Proud, did thy will gainsay, thou didst in hearing of divers of her lords and counsellors vow and swear to come one day and seek her with flaming brands.  So here to-day stand I and divers other gentles of Mortain—­in especial this right noble lord—­to tell thee that so long as we be men ne’er shalt set foot across our marches.  Lastly, we are hither come to demand the safe conduct from Belsaye of our lady Duchess Helen, and such of the citizens as may choose to follow her.”

“So!” quoth Duke Ivo, smiling and fingering his long, blue chin, “’tis war ye do force on me, my lord of Alain?”

“Nay, messire,” answered Sir Jocelyn, “that must be asked of this sable knight—­for he is greater than I, and leadeth where I do but follow.”

Now hereupon the black knight paced slowly forward upon his great, white horse nor stayed until he came close beside Duke Ivo.  Then reining in his charger, he lifted his vizor and spake in voice deep and strong.

“O thou that men call Ivo the Duke, look upon this face—­behold these white hairs, this lined brow!  Bethink thee of the innocent done to cruel death by thy will, the fair cities given to ravishment and flame—­ and judge if this be just and sufficient cause for war, and bitter war, betwixt us!”