Then spake Sir Fidelis in voice full low and troubled:
"My lord Beltane, 'twas said thou wert a noble knight—very strong and very gentle—"
"Ha! dost think such report a lie, mayhap?"
"Alas!" sighed the young knight; and again "alas!" and therewith a great sob brake from him.
Of a sudden, from the gloom beside the way rose a woman's scream, and thereafter a great and fierce roar; and presently came Walkyn with his torch and divers of his men, dragging a woman in their midst, and lo! it was the witch of Hangstone Waste.
Now she, beholding Beltane's face beneath his lifted vizor, cried out for very joy:
"Now heaven bless thee, Duke Beltane! Ah, my lord—hear me!"
"What would ye? What seek ye of such as I?"
But hereupon Black Roger spurred beside Beltane, his eyes wide and fearful in the shadow of his helm, his strong, mailed hand a-tremble on Beltane's arm.
"Beware, my lord, beware!" he cried, "'tis nigh the midnight hour and she a noted witch—heed her not lest she blight thy fair body, lest she—"