Beltane the Smith

by Jeffery Farnol

"Alone, Roger!"

"Aye, lord, alone."

"And—afoot, Roger!"

"Aye, lord, he bade me take his horse that I might come to thee the sooner."

"And—bid thee—pray for me—for me, Roger!"

"Verily, master. And pray I did, right lustily."

"So do I thank thee, Roger," said Beltane, speaking ever with closed eyes. "Yet I would that God had let me die, Roger." And behold, from these closed eyes, great tears, slow-oozing and painful, that rolled a-down the pallid cheek, very bright in the fire-glow, and glistening like the fairest gems.

"Master—O master!" cried Roger, "dost grieve thee for Sir Fidelis?"

"Forsooth, I must, Roger—he was a peerless friend, methinks!"

"Aye master, and—noble lady!"