"Foul daughter of an accursed dam!" quoth Roger, spitting and drawing a cross in the dust with his bow-stave.

"With the eyes of an angel!" said Giles, pushing nearer where stood a maid young and shapely, trembling in the close grasp of one Gurth, a ragged, red-haired giant, whose glowing eyes stared l.u.s.tfully upon her ripe young beauty.

"'Tis Mellent!" cried the fellow. "'Tis the witch's daughter that hath escaped me thrice by deviltry and witchcraft--"

"Nay--nay," panted the maid 'twixt pallid lips, "nought am I but a poor maid gathering herbs and simples for my mother. Ah, show pity--"

"Witch!" roared a score of voices, "Witch!"

"Not so, in sooth--in very sooth," she gasped 'twixt sobs of terror, "nought but a poor maid am I--and the man thrice sought me out and would have shamed me but that I escaped, for that I am very swift of foot--"

"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 G.o.d 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.

"She is a witch--a cursed witch!" they cried.

"She is a woman," says Beltane.

"Aye--a devil-woman--a notable witch--we know her of old!"

"Verily," cried one, "'tis but a sennight since she plagued me with aching teeth--"

"And me with an ague!" cried another.

"She bewitched my shafts that they all flew wide o' the mark!" cried a third.

"She cast on me a spell whereby I nigh did perish i' the fen--"

"She is a hag--she's demon-rid and shall to the fire!" they shouted amain. "Ha!--witch!--witch!"

"That doeth no man harm by day," said Beltane, "so by day shall no man harm her--"

"Aye, lord," quoth Roger, "but how by night? 'tis by night she may work her spells and blast any that she will, or haunt them with goblins d.a.m.ned that they do run mad, or--"

"Enough!" cried Beltane frowning, "on me let her bewitchments fall; thus, see you, an I within this next week wither and languish 'neath her spells, then let her burn an ye will: but until this flesh doth shrivel on these my bones, no man shall do her hurt. So now let there be an end--free these women, let your ranks be ordered, and march--"

"Comrades all!" cried red-haired Gurth, "will ye be slaves henceforth to this girl-faced youth? We have arms now and rich booty. Let us back to the merry greenwood, where all men are equal--come, let us be gone, and take these witches with us to our sport--"

But in this moment Beltane turned.

"Girl-faced, quotha?" he cried; and beholding his look, Gurth of a sudden loosed the swooning maid and, drawing sword, leapt and smote at Beltane's golden head; but Beltane caught the blow in his mailed hand, and snapped the blade in sunder, and, seizing Gurth about the loins, whirled him high in air; then, while all men blenched and held their breath waiting the thud of his broken body in the dust, Beltane stayed and set him down upon his feet. And lo! Gurth's cheek was pale, his eye wide and vacant, and his soul sat numbed within him. So Beltane took him by the throat, and, laughing fierce, shook him to and fro.

"Beast!" said he, "unfit art thou to march with these my comrades. Now therefore do I cast thee out. Take thy life and go, and let any follow thee that will--Pentavalon needeth not thy kind. Get thee from among us, empty-handed as I found thee--thy share of treasure shall go to better men!"

Now even as Beltane spake, Gurth's red head sank until his face was hidden within his hands; strong hands, that slowly clenched themselves into anger-trembling fists. And ever as Beltane spake, the witch, tossing back her long grey hair, looked and looked on him with bright and eager eyes; a wondering look, quick to note his shape and goodly size, his wide blue eyes, his long and golden hair and the proud, high carriage of his head: and slowly, to her wonderment came awe and growing joy. But Beltane spake on unheeding:

"Thou dost know me for a hunted man with a price upon my head, but thou art thing so poor thy death can pleasure no man. So take thy life and get thee hence, but come not again, for in that same hour will I hang thee in a halter--go!" So, with drooping head, Gurth of the red hair turned him about, and plunging into the green, was gone; then Beltane looked awhile upon the others that stood shifting on their feet, and with never a word betwixt them.

"Comrades," quoth he, "mighty deeds do lie before us--such works as only true men may achieve. And what is a man? A man, methinks, is he, that, when he speaketh, speaketh ever from his heart; that, being quick to hate all evil actions, is quicker to forgive, and who, fearing neither ghost nor devil, spells nor witchcraft, dreadeth only dishonour, and thus, living without fear, he without fear may die. So now G.o.d send we all be men, my brothers. To your files there--pikes to the front and rear, bows to the flanks--forward!"

But now, as with a ring and clash and tramp of feet the ragged company fell into rank and order, the witch-woman came swiftly beside Beltane and, touching him not, spake softly in his ear.

"Beltane--Beltane, lord Duke of Pentavalon!" Now hereupon Beltane started, and turning, looked upon her grave-eyed.

"What would ye, woman?" he questioned.

"Born wert thou of a mother chaste as fair, true wife unto the Duke thy father--a woman sweet and holy who liveth but to the good of others: yet was brother slain by brother, and thou baptised in blood ere now!"

"Woman," quoth he, his strong hands a-tremble, "who art thou--what knowest thou of my--mother? Speak!"

"Not here, my lord--but, an thou would'st learn more, come unto Hangstone Waste at the full o' the moon, stand you where the death-stone stands, that some do call the White Morte-stone. There shalt thou learn many things, perchance. Thou hast this day saved a witch from cruel death and a lowly beggar-maid from shame. A witch! A beggar-maid!

The times be out a joint, methinks. Yet, witch and beggar, do we thank thee, lord Duke. Fare thee well--until the full o' the moon!" So spake she, and clasping the young maid within her arm they pa.s.sed into the brush and so were gone.

Now while Beltane stood yet pondering her words, came Roger to his side, to touch him humbly on the arm.

"Lord," said he, "be not beguiled by yon foul witches' arts: go not to Hangstone Waste lest she be-devil thee with goblins or transform thee to a loathly toad. Thou wilt not go, master?"

"At the full o' the moon, Roger!"

"Why then," muttered Roger gulping, and clenching trembling hands, "we must needs be plague-smitten, blasted and everlastingly d.a.m.ned, for needs must I go with thee."

Very soon pike and bow and gisarm fell into array; the pack-horses stumbled forward, the dust rose upon the warm, still air. Now as they strode along with ring and clash and the sound of voice and laughter, came Giles to walk at Beltane's stirrup; and oft he glanced back along the way and oft he sighed, a thing most rare in him; at last he spake, and dolefully:

"Witchcraft is forsooth a deadly sin, tall brother?"

"Verily, Giles, yet there be worse, methinks."