Those who come are knights, and the child can know them only by the crest or by the horses; as they are very far he can distinguish only the horses, but he knows the horse of Keith of Eastholm, because of its white mane, floating in the wind. From this point the poem becomes very terrible, because it shows us a play of terrible passion--passion all the more terrible because it is that of a woman. "He has made a sign and called Halloo! Sister Helen, And he says that he would speak with you." "Oh, tell him I fear the frozen dew Little brother." (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _Why laughs she thus, between Hell and Heaven?_) "The wind is loud, but I hear him cry, Sister Helen, That Keith of Ewern's like to die." "And he and thou, and thou and I, Little brother," (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _And they and we, between Hell and Heaven!_) "Three days ago, on his marriage-morn, Sister Helen, He sickened, and lies since then forlorn." "For bridegroom's side is the bride a thorn, Little brother?" (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _Cold bridal cheer, between Hell and Heaven!_) We now can surmise the story from the girl's own lips. There are wrongs that a woman cannot forgive, unless she is of very weak character indeed. But this woman is no weakling; she can kill, and laugh while killing, because she is a daughter of warriors, and has been cruelly injured. Notice the bitter mockery of every word she utters, especially the exulting reference to the unhappy bride. We imagine that she might be sorry for killing a man whom she once loved; but we may be perfectly sure that she will feel no pity for the woman that he married. "Three days and nights he has lain abed, Sister Helen, And he prays in torment to be dead." "The thing may chance, if he have prayed, Little brother!" (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _If he have prayed, between Hell and Heaven!_) "But he has not ceased to cry to-day, Sister Helen, That you should take your curse away." "_My_ prayer was heard,--he need but pray, Little brother!" (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _Shall God not hear, between Hell and Heaven?_) "But he says till you take back your ban, Sister Helen, His soul would pass, yet never can." "Nay then, shall I slay a living man, Little brother?" (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _A living soul, between Hell and Heaven!_) "But he calls for ever on your name, Sister Helen, And says that he melts before a flame." "My heart for his pleasure fared the same, Little brother." (_O Mother, Mary Mother_, _Fire at the heart, between Hell and Heaven!_)