Fast they galloped 'neath the trees, stooping ever and anon to avoid some low-swung branch; through grassy rides and sunny glades, until all sound of pursuit was died away. So, turning aside into the denser green, Beltane stayed, and sprang down to tighten the great roan's saddle-girths, strained in the encounter. Now as he was busied thus, came the maid Mellent, very pale 'neath her long black hair, and spake him low-voiced and humble: "My lord Beltane, thou, at peril of thy body, hath saved to-day a sorrowful maid from the fiery torment. So to prove my gratitude and sorrow for past ill--now will I tell thee that in saving me, thou hast saved one that for ambition's sake, once did thee grievous wrong."
"Thou!" saith Beltane, staring in amaze, "ne'er hast thou seen me until this day!"
"Verily, messire--O messire, thou hast indeed seen me ere this and--to my bitter sorrow--for I who speak am the lady Winfrida--"
"Nay--nay--" stammered Beltane, "here is thing impossible--thy night-black hair--"
"'Tis but a wile that many women do know, messire, a device of the witch Jolette (that is no witch, but a noble woman) a device whereby I might lie hid awhile. O indeed, indeed I who speak to thee am the wicked Winfrida--Winfrida the Sorrowful!" Now herewith she sank before him on her knees and bowed her face within her hands, and Beltane saw that she trembled greatly. "My lord," she whispered, "now must I confess a thing beyond all words shameful, and though I fear death, I fear thy anger more. If, therefore, when I have spoke thee all, thou wilt slay me, then--O my lord--I pray thee--let death come swift--"
"Master!" cried Roger of a sudden, "I hear horses--they be after us already! Mount--mount and let us ride--Hark! they come this way!"
"Aye!" nodded Beltane, drawing his sword, "yet here is but one methinks--list, Roger--leave him to me!" So waited they all three, what time the slow-pacing hoofs drew near and nearer, until, peering through the leaves, they beheld a knight, who rode low-stooping in his saddle, to mark their tracks plain upon the tender grass. Forth stepped Beltane, fierce and threatening, his long sword agleam, and so paused to scowl, for the knight raised his head of a sudden and lo! 'twas Sir Fidelis.
"Now what seek ye here, sir knight?" saith Beltane, nothing gentle.
"Thee, my lord," quoth Fidelis, meek of aspect, "to share thy perils according to thy word. Put up thy sword, messire, thou wilt not harm thy companion in arms?"
Now Beltane, finding nought to say, scowled sulkily to earth, and thus saw nothing of the eyes so deep and tender that watched him 'neath the shadow of the young knight's bascinet, nor the smile so sad and wistful that curled his ruddy lips, nor all the lithe and slender grace of him as he swayed to the impatient movements of the powerful animal he bestrode; but it chanced that Winfrida's eyes saw all this, and being a woman's eyes, beheld that which gave her breathing sudden pause--turned her red--turned her pale, until, with a gasp of fear she started, and uttering a cry, low and inarticulate, sped fleet-footed across the glade and was gone.