as secure as flesh of any potent
lord or noble of them all. Henceforth each man of us must fight as
valiantly as ten. Now, if any there be who know the manage of horse and
lance, let him step forth." Hereupon divers stepped out of the ranks,
and Beltane counted of these fifty and two.

"Master Reeve," spake Beltane, "give now for guerdon instead of gold,
horses and equipment for these my comrades, stout lances and mail
complete with goodly bascinets."

"It shall be done, my lord."

"Roger, in thy command I set these fifty lances. See now to their
arming, let them be mounted and ready with speed, for in this hour we
ride."

"Aye, master," cried Roger, his eyes a-dance, "that will I, moreover--"

"Walkyn, to thee I give the pikes henceforth. As for our archers--
Giles, which now think you fittest to command?"

"Why truly, brother--my lord, if one there be can twang a lusty bow and
hath a cool and soldier-like head 'tis Jenkyn o' the Ford, and after
him Walcher, and after him--"

"Jenkyn, do you henceforth look to our archers. Are these matters heard
and known among ye?"

"Aye!" came the thunderous answer.

"'Tis well, for mark me, we go out to desperate doings, wherein
obedience must be instant, wherein all must love like brothers, and,
like brothers, fight shoulder to shoulder!"

Now came there certain of the citizens to Beltane, leading a great and
noble war-horse, richly caparisoned, meet for his acceptance. And thus,
ere the moon rose, equipped with lance and shield and ponderous,
vizored casque, Beltane, gloomy and silent, with Sir Fidelis mounted
beside him, rode forth at the head of his grim array, at whose tramp
and jingle the folk of Belsaye shouted joyful acclaim while the bells
rang out right joyously.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

OF BELTANE'S BLACK AND EVIL MOOD, AND HOW HE FELL IN WITH THE WITCH OF
HANGSTONE WASTE

It was very dark upon the forest road, where trees loomed gigantic
against the pitchy gloom wherein dim-seen branches creaked and swayed,
and leaves rustled faint and fitful in the stealthy night-wind; and
through the gloom at the head of his silent company Beltane rode in
frowning thought, his humour blacker than the night.

Now in a while, Sir Fidelis, riding ever at his elbow, ventured speech
with him:

"Art very silent, messire. Have I angered thee, forsooth? Is aught
amiss betwixt us?"

Quoth Beltane, shortly:

"Art over-young, sir knight, and therefore fond and foolish. Is