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THE WHITE COMPANY

bowed, even as his was—the picture of humility and repentance.

'I shall not vex you, nor even speak,' she said; 'but I would fain keep with you while we are in the wood.'

'Nay, you cannot vex me,' he answered all warm again at the very sight of her. 'It was my rough words which vexed you; but I have been thrown among men all my life, and indeed, with all the will, I scarce know how to temper my speech to a lady's ear.'

'Then unsay it,' cried she quickly; 'say that I was right to wish to have vengeance on the Socman.'

'Nay, I cannot do that,' he answered gravely.

'Then who is ungentle and unkind now?' she cried in triumph. 'How stern and cold you are for one so young! Art surely no mere clerk, but bishop or cardinal at the least. Shouldst have crozier for staff and mitre for cap. Well, well, for your sake I will forgive the Socman and take vengeance on none but on my own wilful self who must needs run into danger's path. So will that please you, sir?'

'There spoke your true self,' said he; 'and you will find more pleasure in such forgiveness than in any vengeance.'

She shook her head, as if by no means assured of it, and then with a sudden little cry, which had more of surprise than of joy in it, 'Here is Bertrand with the horses!'

Down the glade there came a little green-clad page with laughing eyes, and long curls floating behind him. He sat perched on a high bay horse, and held on to the bridle of a spirited black palfrey, the hides of both glistening from a long run.

'I have sought you everywhere, dear Lady Maude,' said he in a piping voice, springing down from his horse and holding the stirrup. 'Troubadour galloped as far as Holmhill ere I could catch him. I trust that you had no hurt or scath?' He shot a questioning glance at Alleyne as he spoke.

'No, Bertrand,' said she, 'thanks to this courteous