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Then he turned and looked at Medeia. "This is your doing, false witch-maid," he said; "you have helped these yellow-haired strangers." Medeia shrank and trembled, and her face grew pale with fear, and Aietes knew that she was guilty, and he whispered, "If they win the fleece, you die." Now the heroes went marching toward their ship, growling, like lions cheated of their prey.
Who is this who is proof against all magic? He may kill the serpent yet. So he delayed, and sat taking counsel with his princes till the sun went down and all was dark. Then he bade a herald cry, 'Every man to his home for to- night. To-morrow we will meet these heroes, and speak about the golden fleece. Then he turned and looked at Medeia. 'This is your doing, false witch-maid!
But now at sight of Beltane, the witch-maid uttered a strange cry, and shrinking beneath his look, crouched upon her knees and spake in strange, hushed accents. "Messire," she whispered, "mine eyes do tell me thou art the lord Beltane!" "Aye, 'tis so." "Ah!" she cried, "now glory be and thanks to God that I do see thee hale and well!" So saying, she shivered and covered her face.
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