Jaspar saw them at last. He was for galloping. Yeoland held him in.
"Fool, we are caught. Sit still. We shall gain nothing by bolting."
A knight was coming up the slope at a canter. Yeoland saw his shield, read it and his name. She went red under her hood, felt her heart beating, wondered at its noise.
Youth, aglitter in arms, splendid, triumphant! A face bare to the west, eyes radiant and tender, a great horse reined in on its haunches, a mailed hand that made the sign of the cross!
"Madame, your pardon."
He drew Balthasar's picture from his bosom and held it before her eyes.
"My torch," he said, "that led me to see your face again."
The girl was silent. Her head was thrown back, her slim throat showing, her face turned heavenwards like the face of a woman who is kissed upon the lips.
"You have seen your home?"
"Yes, messire."