"Beseech thee," cried he, barring her path, "tell me thy name!"

Then Helen the Beautiful, the wilful, laughed and swerved her palfrey,
minded to leave him so; but Beltane sprang and caught the bridle.

"Tell me thy name," said he again.

"Let me go!"

"Thy name, tell me thy name."

But the Duchess laughed again, and thinking to escape him, smote her
horse so that it started and reared; once it plunged, and twice, and so
stood trembling with Beltane's hand upon the bridle; wherefore a sudden
anger came upon her, and, bending her black brows, she raised her
jewelled riding-rod threateningly. But Beltane only smiled and shook
his head, saying:

"Unless I know thy name thou shalt not fare forth of the greenwood."

So the proud lady of Mortain looked down upon Beltane in amaze, for
there was none in all the Duchy, knight, noble or princeling, who dared
gainsay her lightest word; wherefore, I say, she stared upon this bold
forest knave with his golden hair and gentle eyes, his curved lips and
square chin; and in eyes and mouth and chin was a look of
masterfulness, challenging, commanding. And, meeting that look, her
heart leapt most strangely with sudden, sweet thrill, so that she
lowered her gaze lest he should see, and when she spake her voice was
low and very sweet: