“Neither has he, Lambkin; ’tis his Lordship himself.”  Her voice rang truth and Katherine turned dismayed,—­

“Nay, Janet, the man was a drunken fool!  Surely, surely thou dost not mean thy sayings.  He is not a fit person to be in so great a castle.  Thou art shamming!”

“I mean every word; ’tis my Lord en masque, for to-night there is to be a great and magnificent spectacle.”

“And what does that mean, Janet?”

“It means there is to be a masque ball, and my Lord Cedric is in his costume, and he does not look like that at all.  We may be sure he appears quite the opposite when apparelled in his usual dress.”

“But his tongue, he cannot change that!”

“Thou wilt have to wait and see for thyself, and fortune favours, for now thou wilt not have long to wait.  I saw his wicked young eyes—­too young for so old a man, as it appeared—­directing enamoured darts upon thee.”

“But art thou not afraid of so oath-beladen tongue?  He is dreadfully profane!”

“He has already seen his peril and will drop his oaths like jetsam and wilt come to thee with flotsamy oglings and tender nothings and bow and smirk; and thou wilt find thyself an old man’s sweetheart.”

“Janet, can we not find some point of observation where we may look upon the maskers unseen?”

“Thou art speaking my own mind.  I will look about and find some seclusion that thou mayest look and sate thine eyes upon Royalty; and thou wilt gaze and gaze and make mental annotations, and to-morrow thou wilt begin to preen thy feathers preparatory to flying forth; but first thou must lie down and sleep three full hours, ’tis then the ball will be at its height, and thou wilt feel refreshed and ready to amuse me with thy observations.  ’Twill be the grandest sight for thee.  I have seen many but none so gorgeous as this is to be.”

Janet went upon a tour of exploration and finding what she desired in the way of a quiet corner returned for Katherine.  They passed down flights of steps, through halls, and came to a large corridor that opened upon a gallery which encircled the ballroom, save where it was cleft by a great stairway.  As they stood looking over the railing, ’twas like looking down upon an immense concave opal, peopled by the gorgeously apparelled.  Myriad tints seeming to assimulate and focus wherever the eyes rested.  Gilt bewreathed pillars, mouldings, shimmering satin, lights, jewels, flowers, ceiling, gallery and parquetry appeared like a homogeneous mass of opal.  Mistress Katherine could not speak, her perturbed spirit was silent, she held to Janet and the curtain that hung at the arch, and breathed in the perfume.

“Canst see thy lord yonder?”

“Nay, I see all collectively, but nothing individually; my eyes fail to separate this from that.”

“Perhaps if thou couldst whip them to his ugly frame, ’twould prove an antidote.”