“Nay, then I will keep thee company, good Sir Hacon!” smiled the Duchess a little tremulously, “shalt watch with me from the bartizan and tell me how the day goeth with us.”

And now Sir Benedict lifted aloft his lance, the trumpet sounded, and with ring and tramp he with his six hundred knights and men-at-arms rode forth of the market-square, clattering through the narrow street, thundering over the drawbridge, and, forming in the open, spurred away into the battle.

Then Beltane sighed, and kneeling, kissed his lady’s white hands: 

“Beloved,” spake he low-voiced, “e’en now must I go from thee, but howsoever fortune tend—­thine am I through life—­aye, and beyond.”

“Beltane,” she whispered ’twixt quivering lips, “O loved Beltane, take heed to thy dear body, cover thee well with thy shield since thy hurts are my hurts henceforth and with thee thou dost bear my heart—­O risk not my heart to death without good cause!” So she bent and kissed him on the brow:  but when he would have risen, stayed him.  “Wait, my lord!” she whispered and turning, beckoned to one behind her, and lo!  Genevra came forward bearing a blue banner.

“My lord,” said the Duchess, “behold here thy banner that we have wrought for thee, Genevra and I.”

So saying, she took the banner and gave it into Beltane’s mailed hand.  But as he arose, and while pale-cheeked Genevra, hands clasped upon the green scarf at her bosom, looked wet-eyed where the archers stood ranked, forth stepped Giles and spake quick and eager.

“Lord!” said he, “to-day methinks will be more hard smiting than chance for good archery, wherefore I do pray let me bear thy standard in the fight—­ne’er shall foeman touch it whiles that I do live—­lord, I pray thee!”

“Be it so, Giles!” So Giles took the banner whiles Beltane fitted on his great, plumed helm; thereafter comes Roger with his shield and Ulf leading his charger whereon he mounted forthwith, and wheeling, put himself at the head of his pikemen and archers, with Roger and Ulf mounted on either flank and Giles bestriding another horse behind.

Yet now needs must he turn to look his last upon the Duchess standing forlorn, and beholding the tender passion of her tearless eyes he yearned mightily to kiss them, and sighed full deep, then, giving the word, rode out and away, the blue standard a-dance upon the breeze; but his heart sank to hear the clash and clang of gate and portcullis, shutting away from him her that was more to him than life itself.

Now when they had gone some way needs must he look back at Belsaye, its battered walls, its mighty towers; and high upon the bartizan he beheld two figures, the one be-swathed in many bandages, and one he knew who prayed for him, even then; and all at once wall and towers and distant figures swam in a mist of tears wherefore he closed his bascinet, yet not before Giles had seen—­Giles, whose merry face was grim now and hard-set, and from whose bright bascinet a green veil floated.