Quoth Beltane, very humbly:
"And wherefore not, Sir Fidelis? Unfit am I for great achievements.
But, as to thee, take now the horse and ride you ever north and west—"
"Yea, but where is north, and where west—?"
"The trees shall tell you this. Hearken now—"
"Nay, my lord, no forester am I to find my way through trackless wild. So, an thou stay, so, perforce, must I: and if thou stay then art thou deeply forsworn."
"How mean you, good sir?"
"I mean Belsaye—I mean all those brave souls that do wait and watch, pale-cheeked, 'gainst Ivo's threatened vengeance—"
"Ha—Belsaye!" quoth Beltane, lifting his head.
"Thou must save Belsaye from flame and ravishment, my lord!"
"Aye, forsooth," cried Beltane, clenching his hands, "though I be unworthy to stand in my noble father's place, yet Belsaye must be saved or I die in it. O Fidelis, friend art thou indeed and wise beyond thy years!" But as Beltane arose, Sir Fidelis incontinent turned away, and presently came back leading the great horse. So in a while they set out northwards; but now were no arms to clasp and cling, since Sir Fidelis found hold otherwhere. Thus, after some going, Beltane questioned him: