The girl Yeoland saw nothing of the leper for a season. For several days she did not venture far into the pine forest, and the nameless grave heard not the sound of her . The third night after the incident, as she lay in her room under her of purple cloth, she heard distinctly the silver clangour of a bell floating up through the midnight silence. She lay as still as a mouse, and scarcely drew breath, for fear the man in grey should venture up the stairway. The was open, with a soft June air blowing in like peace. The bell continued to , but less noisily, till it vanished into silence.  
Other folk from the cliff had seen the leper, and Yeoland could not claim to have monopolised the gentleman. One of Fulviac's fellows had seen him one morning near the cliff, like a grey ghost among the pines. Another had marked him creeping swiftly away through the . It was a age and a superstitious region. The figure in grey seemed to haunt the place, with the occasional and mournful sounding of its bell. Men began to gossip, as the ignorant always will. Fulviac himself grew uneasy for more material reasons, and the test of a clothyard or a bolt upon the leper's body. The man might be a spy, and if the bolt missed its mark it would at least serve as a hint to this troublesome .
 
It was then that Yeoland took alarm into her woman's heart. There was great likelihood of the man ending his days under the tree with a shaft sticking fast between his shoulders. Though he was something of a madman, she did not such a . The day after she had heard the bell at midnight near the stair she haunted the forest like a pixie, keeping constant watch between the cliff and the forest grave. Fulviac had ridden out on a venture, and she was free of him for the day.
 
It was not till evening that she heard the faint signal of the bell, creeping down through the gold-webbed like the sound of a distant angelus. The sound flew from the north, and her towards the forest grave. Fearful of being caught, she followed it as fast as her feet could carry her, while the deepening clamour led her on. Presently she called the man by name as she ran. His grey frock and cowl came dimly through the trees.
 
"At last you are merciful," was his greeting.
 
She stood still and twisted her gown restlessly between her two hands. showed in her face; fear, reason, and desire were calling to her heart. The intangible touch of the man's soul threw her being into . She feared greatly for him, stood still, and could say nothing. Flavian put his cowl back, and stood from her, looking in her face.
 
"Seemingly we are both embarrassed," he said.
 
She made a little gesture. He her in speech.
 
"It is best to be frank when life runs deep. I will speak the truth to you, and you may treat me as you will."
 
Yeoland leant against a tree, and began to pull away the scales of the bark.
 
"If you stay here longer, messire----" she began.
 
"Well, madame, what then?"
 
"You will be shot like a dog; you are suspected; they are going to try your leper's gown with a crossbow bolt."
 
The man smiled optimistically.
 
"And you came to tell me this?"
 
"Yes."
 
"I thank you."
 
The wind moved through the trees; a fir-cone came pattering through the branches and fell at their feet. On the cliff a horn blared; its throaty cry came echoing faintly through the trees.
 
Flavian looked towards the gold of the west. His mood was calm and deliberate; he had his enthusiasms in for the moment, for there were more matters in his mind--matters that were not savoury, however shone the ideal years.
 
"I have thrown down the glove," he said, "for good or evil, honour or . I will tell you the whole truth."
 
Yeoland, watching his face, felt her impatient her to the quick.
 
"Will you talk for ever?" she said to him.
 
"Take the core then. I am going to my bonds as I would rend flax. I have appealed to the Church; I have poured out gold."
 
"To the point, messire."
 
"I shall divorce my wife."
 
He threw his head back, and challenged the world in her one person. Her good favour was more to him t............