"Poor Fidelis!" she sighed, "but indeed it wrung my heart to see thy woeful face when I did tell thee Fidelis was lost to thee--Nay, Beltane, stay--O prithee let me speak--"
Quoth Beltane 'twixt his kisses: "Wherefore wert so cold and strange to me but yesterday?"
"Dear my heart," she murmured, "I needs must make thee suffer a little-- just a very little, for that I had known so much of pain and heartache because of thee. But I was glad to see thee bear the wallet of poor Fidelis--and O, 'twas foolish in thee to grieve for him, for he being gone, thy Helen doth remain--unless, forsooth, thou had rather I came to thee bedight again in steel--that did so chafe me, Beltane--indeed, my tender skin did suffer much on thy account--"
"Then soon with my kisses will I seek--" But a cool, soft hand schooled his hot lips to silence and the while he kissed those sweet arresting fingers, she spake 'twixt smiling lips: "Prithee where is my shoe that was Genevra's? Indeed, 'twas hard matter to slip it off for thee, Beltane, for Genevra's foot is something smaller than mine--a very little! Nay, crush me not, messire, but tell me, what of him ye came hither seeking--the man in the long cloak--what of him?"
"Nought!" answered Beltane, "the world to-night doth hold but thee and me--"
"Aye, my Beltane, as when sick of thy wound within the little cave I nursed thee, all unknown. O love, in all thy sickness I was with thee, to care for thee. Teaching good Roger to tend thee and--to drug thee to gentle sleep that I might hold thee to me in the dark and--kiss thy sleeping lips--"
"Ah!" he sighed, "and methought 'twas but a dream! O Helen, sure none ever loved as we?"
"Nay, 'twere thing impossible, Beltane."
"And thou art truly mine?"
"Beltane--thou dost know this! Ah, love--what would you?" For of a sudden his mighty arms were close about her, and rising, he lifted her upon his breast. "What would'st do with me, Beltane?"
"Do?" quoth he, "do? This night, this very hour thou shalt wed me--"
"Nay, dear my lord--bethink thee--"
"It hath been my thought--my dearest dream since first I saw thee within the woods at Mortain--so now shalt wed me--"
"But, Beltane--"
"Shalt wed me!"
"Nay, love, I--I--thou art so sudden!"
"Aye, within this hour shalt call me 'husband'!"
"Wilt force me, my lord?"
"Aye, verily," said Beltane, "as God sees me, I will!"
"Why then," she sighed, "how may I gainsay thee!" and she hid her face against him once more. But, as he turned to leave the arbour, she stayed him: "I prithee, now, whither dost take me, Beltane?"