but to thrust and smite. But--and mark me again, boy! a man cannot go
ever in his armour, nor yet be sure when foes are nigh, and, at all
times, 'tis well to make thy weapon both sword and shield; 'tis a
goodly art, indeed I think a pretty one. Come now, take up thy sword
and I will teach thee all my strokes and show thee how 'tis done."

Thus then, this stranger dwelt the week with Beltane in the greenwood,
teaching him, day by day, tricks of sword and much martial lore beside.
And, day by day, a friendship waxed and grew betwixt them so that upon
the seventh morning, as they broke their fast together, Beltane's heart
was heavy and his look downcast; whereat the stranger spake him thus:

"Whence thy dole, good youth?"

"For that to-day needs must I part with thee."

"And thy friends are few, belike?"

"None, messire," answered Beltane, sighing.

"Aye me! And yet 'tis well enough, for--mark me, youth!--friends be
ofttimes a mixed blessing. As for me, 'tis true I am thy friend and so
shall ever be, so long as you shall bear yon goodly blade."

"And wherefore?" questioned Beltane.

"Moreover thou art my scholar, and like, perchance, to prove thyself,
some day, a notable sworder and a sweet and doughty fighter, belike."

"Yet hast never spoken me thy name, messire."