"Nay, not I," said Beltane, and sighing he arose and descended to the battlement above the gates. And presently, behold Giles was there also!
"Brother," quoth he, selecting an arrow with portentous care, "'tis an ill thing to be cursed with eyes such as mine, I tell thee!"
"Aye, and wherefore, Giles?" said Beltane, yet intent on his own thoughts.
"For that they do see more than is good for this heart o' mine—as this fellow in the blue camlet cloak—"
"What fellow, Giles?"
"The buxom fellow that was in the Reeve's garden this morning."
"Why then," quoth Beltane, turning away, "go you not to the Reeve's garden, Giles."
All day long Beltane kept the wall, eating not at all, wherefore his gloom waxed the more profound; so spake he to few men and oft exposed himself to shaft and missile. And so, all day long, wheresoever he came, on tower or keep, in corners most remote, there sure was Giles to come also, sighing amain and with brow of heavy portent, who, so oft as he met Beltane's gloomy eye, would shake his head in sad yet knowing fashion. Thus, as evening fell, Beltane finding him at his elbow yet despondent, betook him to speech at last; quoth he:
"Giles, art thou sick?"
"Aye, lord, by reason of this fellow in the blue camlet—"