"Noble sir, I had a daughter and she was young and fair, therefore came my lord Pertolepe's chief verderer to bear her to my lord. But she cried to me and I, forgetting my duty to my lord, took my quarter-staff and, serf though I was, smote the chief verderer that he died thereafter, but, ere he died, he named my daughter witch. And, when they had burned her, they put out mine eyes, and cut off my hand, and made of me an outlaw. So is my sin very heavy upon me."
Now when the man had made an end, Beltane stood silent awhile, then, reaching down, he aided the blind man to his feet.
"Go you to Mortain," said he, "seek out the hermit Ambrose that liveth in Holy Cross Thicket; with him shall you find refuge, and he, methinks, will surely win thy soul to heaven."
So the blind man blessed my Beltane and turning, crept upon his solitary way.
"Youth," said the friar, frowning up into Beltane's gentle eyes, "thou hast this day put thy soul in jeopardy—the Church doth frown upon this thy deed!"
"And yet, most reverend sir, God's sun doth shine upon this my body!"
FRIAR. "He who aideth an evil-doer is enemy to the good!"
BELTANE. "Yet he who seeketh to do good to evil that good may follow, doeth no evil to good."
FRIAR. "Ha! thou art a menace to the state—"
BELTANE. "So shall I be, I pray God, the whiles this state continue!"