"Forgive me!"
But Giles neither turned nor spake, wherefore contrite Roger must needs set an arm about him and turn him about, and behold, the archer's eyes were brimming with great tears!
"O Giles!" gasped Roger, "O Giles!"
"Roger, I—I do love her, man—I do love her, heart and soul! Is this so hard to believe, Roger, or dost think me rogue so base that true love is beyond me? 'Tis true I am unworthy, and yet—I do verily love her, Roger!"
"Wilt forgive me—can'st forgive me, Giles?"
"Aye, Roger, for truly we have saved each other's lives so oft we must needs be friends, thou and I. Only thy words did—did hurt me, friend— for indeed this love of mine hath in it much of heaven, Roger. And— there be times when I do dream of mayhap—teaching—a little Giles—to loose a straight shaft—some day. O sweet Jesu, make me worthy, amen!"
And now Beltane glancing up and finding the sun high, summoned Giles and Roger beside him.
"Friends," said he, "we have journeyed farther than methought. Now let us turn into the boskage yonder and eat."
So in a while, the horses tethered, behold them within a leafy bower eating and drinking and laughing like the blithe foresters they were, until, their hunger assuaged, they made ready to mount. But of a sudden the bushes parted near by and a man stepped forth; a small man he, plump and buxom, whose quick, bright eyes twinkled 'neath his wide-eaved hat as he saluted Beltane with obeisance very humble and lowly. Quoth he:
"Right noble and most resplendent lord Duke Beltane, I do most humbly greet thee, I—Lubbo Fitz-Lubbin, past Pardoner of the Holy See—who but a poor plain soul am, do offer thee my very insignificant, yet most sincere, felicitous good wishes."