"Nay, my lord, I—think not."
"Then wherefore dost tremble?"
"Ah, Beltane, thou methinks dost—tremble also?"
Then Beltane knelt him at her feet and looked upon her loveliness with yearning eyes, yet touched her not:
"O beloved maid!" said he, "this is, methinks, because of thy sweet virgin eyes! For I do so love thee, Helen, that, an it be thy will, e'en now will I leave thee until thy heart doth call me!"
Now stooped she and set her white arms about him and her soft cheek to his hot brow.
"Dear my lord and—husband," she whispered, "'tis for this so sweet tenderness in thee that I do love thee best, methinks!"
"And fear me no more?"
"Aye, my lord, I do fear thee when—when thou dost look on me so, but— when thou dost look on me so—'tis then I do love thee most, my Beltane!"
Up to his feet sprang Beltane and caught her to him, breast to breast and lip to lip.