“Master—­’tis I!” said a voice.  Then Beltane came forth of the grot and stared upon Black Roger, grave-eyed.

“O Hangman,” said he, “where is thy noose?”

But Roger quailed and hung his head, and spake with eyes abased: 

“Master, I burned it, together with my badge of service.”

“And what would ye here?”

“Sir, I am a masterless man henceforth, for an I hang not men for Sir Pertolepe, so will Sir Pertolepe assuredly hang me.”

“And fear ye death?”

“Messire, I—­have hanged many men and—­there were women also!  I have cut me a tally here on my belt, see—­there be many notches—­and every notch a life.  So now for every life these hands have taken do I vow to save a life an it may be so, and for every life saved would I cut away a notch until my belt be smooth again and my soul the lighter.”

“Why come ye to me, Black Roger?”

“For that this day, at dire peril, I saw thee save a fool, Master.  So now am I come to thee to be thy man henceforth, to follow and serve thee while life remain.”

“Why look now,” quoth Beltane, “mine shall be a hard service and a dangerous, for I have mighty wrongs to set aright.”

“Ha! belike thou art under some vow also, master?”

“Aye, verily, nor will I rest until it be accomplished or I am slain.  For mark this, lonely am I, with enemies a many and strong, yet because of my vow needs must I smite them hence or perish in the adventure.  Thus, he that companies me must go ever by desperate ways, and ’tis like enough Death shall meet him in the road.”

“Master,” quoth Black Roger, “this day have ye shown me death yet given me new life, so beseech thee let me serve thee henceforth and aid thee in this thy vow.”

Now hereupon Beltane smiled and reached forth his hand; then Black Roger falling upon his knee, touched the hand to lip, and forehead and heart, taking him for his lord henceforth, and spake the oath of fealty:  but when he would have risen, Beltane stayed him: 

“What, Black Roger, thou hast sworn fealty and obedience to me—­now swear me this to God:—­to hold ever, and abide by, thy word:  to shew mercy to the distressed and to shield the helpless at all times!”

And when he had sworn, Black Roger rose bright-eyed and eager.

“Lord,” said he, “whither do we go?”

“Now,” quoth Beltane, “shew me where I may eat, for I have a mighty hunger.”

“Forsooth,” quoth Roger, scratching his chin, “Shallowford village lieth but a bowshot through the brush yonder—­yet, forsooth, a man shall eat little there, methinks, these days.”

“Why so?”

“For that ’twas burned down, scarce a week agone—­”

“Burned!—­and wherefore?”

“Lord Pertolepe fell out with his neighbour Sir Gilles of Brandonmere—­ upon the matter of some wench, methinks it was—­wherefore came Sir Gilles’ men by night and burned down Shallowford with twenty hunting dogs of Sir Pertolepe’s that chanced to be there:  whereupon my lord waxed mighty wroth and, gathering his company, came into the demesne of Sir Gilles and burned down divers manors and hung certain rogues and destroyed two villages—­in quittance.”