Part 5 (1/2)

Now, looking up, he saw her lips curved and scarlet, and her eyes brimful of laughter, and fain would he have taken up the brush yet dared not. Therefore, very humbly, she stooped and lifting the brush put it in his hand. Then, trembling 'neath the touch of her soft fingers, Beltane rose up, and that which he had hidden deep within his heart brake from him.

”Helen!” he whispered, ”O Helen, thou art so wondrous fair and belike of high estate, but as for me, I am but what I am. Behold me” he cried, stretching wide his arms, ”I am but Beltane the Smith; who is there to love such as I? See, my hands be hard and rough, and would but bruise where they should caress, these arms be unfitted for soft embracements. O lady, who is there to love Beltane the Smith?”

Now the d.u.c.h.ess Helen laughed within herself for very triumph, yet her bosom thrilled and hurried with her breathing, her cheek grew red and her eyes bright and tender, wherefore she stooped low to cull a flower ere she answered.

”Beltane,” she sighed, ”Beltane, women are not as thy flowers, that embraces, even such as thine, would crush them.”

But Beltane stooped his head that he might not behold the lure and beauty of her, and clenched his hands hard and fierce and thereafter spake:

”Thou art so wondrous fair,” said he again, ”and belike of n.o.ble birth, but--as for me, I am a smith!”

Awhile she stood, turning the flower in gentle fingers yet looking upon him in his might and goodly youth, beholding his averted face with its strong, sweet mouth and masterful chin, its curved nostrils and the dreaming pa.s.sion of his eyes, and when she spake her voice was soft and very sweet.

”Above all, thou art--a man, messire!”

Then did my Beltane lift his head and saw how the colour was deepened in her cheek and how her tender eyes drooped before his.

”Tell me,” he said, ”is there ever a woman to love such a man? Is there ever a woman who would leave the hum and glitter of cities to walk with such as I in the shadow of these forest-lands? Speak, Oh speak I do beseech thee!” Thus said he and stopped, waiting her answer.

”Nay, Beltane,” she whispered, ”let thine own heart speak me this.”

All blithe and glorious grew the world about him as he stooped and caught her in his arms, lifting her high against his heart. And, in this moment, he forgot the teaching of Ambrose the Hermit, forgot all things under heaven, save the glory of her beauty, the drooping languor of her eyes and the sweet, moist tremor of her mouth. And so he kissed her, murmuring 'twixt his kisses:

”Fairer art thou than all the flowers, O my love, and sweeter thy breath than the breath of flowers!”

Thus Helen the Proud, the Beautiful, yielded her lips to his, and in all the world for her was nought save the deep, soft voice of Beltane, and his eyes, and the new, sweet ecstasy that thrilled within her.

Surely nowhere in all the world was there such another man as this, so strong and gentle, so meet for love and yet so virginal. Surely life might be very fair here in the green solitudes, aye, surely, surely--

Soft with distance came the peal of bells, stealing across the valley from the great minster in Mortain, and, with the sound, memory waked, and she bethought her of all those knights and n.o.bles who lived but to do her will and pleasure, of Mortain and the glory of it; and so she sighed and stirred, and, looking at Beltane, sighed again. Quoth she:

”Is this great love I foretold come upon thee, Beltane?”

And Beltane answered:

”Truly a man hath not lived until he hath felt a woman's kisses upon his lips!”

”And thou wilt flout poor Love no more?”

”Nay,” he answered, smiling, ”'tis part of me, and must be so henceforth--forever!”

But now she sighed again, and trembled in his arms and clasped him close, as one beset by sudden fear, while ever soft with distance came the silvery voices of the bells, low yet insistent, sweet yet commanding; wherefore she, sighing, put him from her.

”Why then,” said she, with drooping head, ”fare thee well, messire.

Nay, see you not? Methinks my task is done. And it hath been a-- pleasing task, this--of teaching thee to love--O, would you had not learned so soon! Fare thee well. Beltane!”

But Beltane looked upon her as one in deep amaze, his arms fell from her and he stepped back and so stood very still and, as he gazed, a growing horror dawned within his eyes.

”What art thou?” he whispered.