“'Tis thou hast miscalled him, Fool!” said she, frowning.
“Not I, lady.”
“Who, then?”
“A maid—”
“Ah!” said Melissa, frowning blacker than ever. “A maid, Fool? What maid?”
“A wandering gipsy o' the wood, lady—a dark-eyed damsel with long, black curling hair and 'voice of sweet allure'—'tis so he named her—”
“This was belike some wicked witch!” said Melissa, clenching white fist.
“Aye, belike it was, lady, for she bestowed on him a strange jewel, a heart in heart of crystal, that wrought for us in Canalise marvels great as our wondrous Witch herself.”
Now here the lovely Melissa's frown vanished, and her red lips curved to sudden smile.
“Belike this was no witch after all!” said she gently.