For answer, Giles, straddling the wall, laid finger to lip, then dropping cat-like to his feet, drew Beltane down an adjacent lane.

"Lord," said he, "yonder is the Reeve's garden and in the Reeve's garden cometh the Reeve to taste the sweet dawn, wherefore Giles doth incontinent vanish him over the Reeve's wall because of the Reeve; nevertheless needs must I bless the Reeve because of the Reeve's daughter--though verily, both in my speech and in the Reeve's garden is too much Reeve, methinks. As to this rose, now--ha!"

"How came you by the rose, Giles?"

"Why, in the first place, tall brother, I stole it--"

"Stole it!" repeated Beltane, and behold! his frown was gone completely.

"But, in the second place, brother, 'twas given to me--"

"Given to thee--by whom?" and immediately Beltane's frown was back again.

"And therefore, in the third place, brother, Giles this day would not change skins with any lord, duke, archduke, pope or potentate that e'er went in skin--"

"Who gave it thee?--speak, man!"

"Faith, lord, I had it from one as pure, as fair, as--"

"Aye, but what like is she?"

"Like unto this flower for sweetness, lord, and--ha, saints and martyrs! whence had ye that bloom, tall brother--speak!" and Giles pointed to the rose in Beltane's fingers.

"What like is she--answer me!"

"Alack!" sighed Giles, shaking gloomy head, "she is very like a woman, after all, methinks--"

"Mean ye the Reeve's daughter?"

"Even so, lord!"

"Doth she wear ever a--a green veil, Giles?"

"Verily, lord, and with a most sweet grace--"

"And her shoes--"

"Her shoes, tall brother, O methinks her sweet shoe doth kiss the earth so sweet and light poor earth must needs love and languish as doth poor Giles! Her shoe--"

"Is it aught like to this, Giles?" and forthwith Beltane took out the little shoe.

"Aye, 'tis her very own, master!" groaned Giles. "Ah, woe is me, for if she hath given to thee rose and therewith her pretty shoe--thou hast, belike, her heart also, and with her heart--"

"Nay, take it, Giles,--take it!" quoth Beltane, sighing. "I did but find it in my going, and this rose--I found also, but this will I keep.

Methinks thy love is what thy heart telleth thee--a maid very gentle and sweet--so G.o.d prosper thy wooing, Giles!"

So saying, Beltane thrust the shoe upon bewildered Giles and, turning swiftly about, hasted away. But even then, while the archer yet stared after him, Beltane turned and came striding back.

"Giles," quoth he, "how tall is the Reeve's daughter?"

"Lord, she is better than tall--"

"Ha--is she short of stature, good Giles?"

"Messire, G.o.d hath shaped her lovely body no higher and no lower than my heart. Small is she and slender, yet in her sweet and slender shapeliness is all the beauty of all the women that all men have ever loved--"

"Small, say you, Giles--small? Then give me back yon lovely thing!"

Saying the which, Beltane caught the shoe from Giles's hold and strode away blithe and debonair, leaving the garrulous archer dumb for once and beyond all words amazed.

Now as Beltane went very deep in thought there met him Friar Martin, who bore upon his arm a great basket full of green vegetables and sweet herbs. Quoth Beltane:

"Good friar, what do ye abroad so early?"

"Sweet son, I praise the good G.o.d for His mercies and pant by reason of this my weighty basket."

"Indeed 'tis a something well-laden basket," said Beltane, relieving the friar of his burden with gentle force.

"Why, verily, my children are hungry children and clamour to be filled.

And see you, my son, I have a secret of a certain broth whereof these lentils and these sweet herbs do so tickle their palates that to satisfy them is a hard matter--more especially Orson and Jenkyn--who being nigh cured of their hurts do eat like four men and vaunt my cooking full-mouthed, insomuch that I must needs grow heedful of vain pride."

"Fain would I see these children of thine an I may, good friar, so will I bear thy burden for thee."

"Verily they shall rejoice to see thee," quoth the friar, "but for my basket, methinks 'tis better suited to my habit than thy knightly mail--"

For answer Beltane slipped the basket on his arm and they went on together talking whole-heartedly of many things. Thus the gentle friar brought him at last to a low-arched portal within a narrow lane, and pushing open the door, ushered him into the great refectory of the abbey, where Beltane set down the basket, and Friar Martin, rolling up his sleeves, brought pot and pannikin but paused to smile and shake his head, as from a stone-flagged pa.s.sage hard by came the sound of voices raised in altercation.

"My children do grow a little fractious at times," quoth he, "as is but natural, methinks. Yonder you shall hear Orson and Jenkyn, who having saved each other's life in battle and loving like brothers, do oft contend together with tongues most ungentle; go you, my son, and quiet me the naughty rogues."

So saying, Friar Martin fell to washing and preparing his herbs and vegetables whiles Beltane, hasting down the pa.s.sage, opened a certain door and entered a cool and airy dormitory, where upon pallets neat and orderly lay divers fellows whose hurts were swathed in fair white linen, and who, despite their bandages, started up on hand or elbow to greet Beltane right gladly. And behold! beside each man's couch was a bowl wherein roses bloomed.

"Master," quoth Tall Orson, "us do be glad to see thee--in especial me-- and Jenkyn that I did save the carcase of and as do be a liar as do say my roses do be a-fading, master, and as his roses do bloom fairer than my roses and--"

"And look'ee master, so they be, for I ha' watered mine wi' Orson's drinking-water, while he snored, look'ee--" "So Jenkyn do be thief as well, master--"

"Nay," said Beltane smiling, and seating himself on Orson's bed, "stint now your angers and tell me who gave ye flowers so fair?"

"Master, she do be an angel!"

"Heed him not, lord, for look'ee, she is a fair and lovely woman, and look'ee, a good woman is better than an angel, look'ee!"

"And what like is she?" questioned Beltane.

"She do be like to a stag for grace o' body, and wi' the eyes of a stag--"

"Nay, master, her eyes do be maid's eyes, look'ee, very soft and sweet, and her hair, look'ee--"

"Her hair do be like a forest-pool brim-full o' sunset--"