"Dost meditate our course to-morrow, my lord Beltane?"
"Nay--I do but think--a strange thought--that I have seen thy face ere now, Fidelis. Yet art full young to bear arms a-field."
"Doth my youth plague thee still, messire? Believe me, I am--older than I seem."
"Thou, at peril of thy life, Fidelis, didst leap 'twixt me and death, so needs must I know thee for my friend, and yet--"
"And yet, messire?"
"Thou hast betimes the look and speech of one--of one beyond all traitors vile!"
"Ah," murmured Sir Fidelis, a sudden tremor in his voice, "thou dost mean--?"
"Helen of Mortain--poor Fidelis--whom thou dost love."
"Whom thou dost hate, Beltane! And O, I pray thee, wherefore is thy hate so bitter?"
"Fidelis, there lived a fool, that, for her beauty, loved her with a mighty love: that, for her seeming truth and purity, honoured her beyond all things: that, in the end, did find her beyond all things vile. Aye, there lived a fool--and I am he."
"Ah, beseech thee," cried Sir Fidelis, white hands outstretched, "how know you her thus false to thee, Beltane?"
"Know then, Sir Fidelis, that--upon our wedding-eve I was--by her command struck down--within the chapel--upon the very altar, and by her borne in bonds unto Garthlaxton Keep--a present to mine enemy, Duke Ivo--"
"O, 'tis a lie--O dear my lord--'tis lie most foul--!"
"In witness whereof behold upon my wrists the shameful irons from my dungeon--"
"Alas! here was no work of Helen's--no thought, no will--Helen would have died to save thee this--"
"So, Fidelis, do I scorn all women that do live upon this earth henceforth--but, above all, Helen the Beautiful! the Wilful! who in her white bosom doth bear a heart more foul than Trojan Helen, that was a woman false and damned. So now, all's said."
Now fell Sir Fidelis upon his knees and spake quick and passionate: "Nay, Beltane, hear me! For now do I swear that he who told thee 'twas Helen wrought thee this vile wrong--who told thee this doth lie--O, doth lie! Now do I swear that never by word or thought or deed, hath she been false to thee--I do swear she loveth thee--ah, spurn me not-- O, believe--"
"Enough--enough, good Fidelis, perjure not thy sweet youth for one so much unworthy, for with these eyes did I behold her as they bore me in my bonds--and shall I not believe mine eyes?"
"Never--ah! never, when they do shew thee Helen false and cruel to thee! Here was some vile magic--witchcraft--"
"Enough, Fidelis, 'tis past and done. Here was a woman false--well, 'tis none so singular--there have been others--there will be others. So, God keep thee, sweet youth, from the ways of women. Nay, let us speak of this no more, for in sooth I grow a-weary and we must ride with the dawn to-morrow. So, betake thee to thy rest, nor grieve thee for my sorrows past and done--mayhap they shall be things to smile upon one day."