“Why, paladin,” said one, “what is amiss with the skew-bald?  You can’t ride him today if he is as bad as he looks.”

I told him that his own horse was much in the same case, and added that I thought with Erling that it was the thundery weather which upset the stable, though I had never known the like before.

“I suppose that the king will not start until it clears,” I said.

“Ay, but he will,” said the other thane, looking at the gray sky.  “Seldom does he put off a start, and today of all days there is a strong cable pulling him westward.”

Now Erling came out with the other horses, and the thane and his comrade glanced at them, and hurried to see to their own steeds.  There was no sound of pawing hoofs and coaxing voices to be heard as one by one the horses were led out.  It might have been the clearing of a sheep fold for all the spirit there was in the beasts.

I mounted, and rode with Erling after me out of the courtyard into the open.  On the green were gathering the twenty thanes or so who made up the party, and across it was drawn up the mounted escort.  There was the usual gathering of onlookers, and by the gate stood the king’s own huntsmen, with hawks and hounds.

The first thing I noticed was that the birds were dull and uneasy, and that the dogs were still more so.  The hooded hawks sat with ruffled feathers, and one or two of the hounds lay on their backs, with paws drawn to them as if they feared a beating, while the rest whined, and had no eagerness in them.  It seemed closer here than in the courtyard even, and every one was watching the sky and speaking in a low voice.  Each sound seemed over loud, and overhead the hot haze brooded without sign of breaking.

The king’s chaplain came out, and a lay brother brought him his mule.  He looked at it as I had looked at my horse just now, and his brow knitted.  He was rather a friend of mine.

“Father,” I said, “there is somewhat strange in the air.  Look at all the beasts; they feel more than we can.”

He nodded to me gravely.  Then he said, with his hand smoothing the wet coat of his mule, which at any other time would have resented the touch with a squeal, but now did not heed him: 

“It minds me of one day in Rome when I was a lad there, at college, learning.  There is a great burning mountain at Naples, and it was smoking at the time.  Then there came—­”

“Way for the king!” cried the marshal who waited at the gate, and the good father had to stand aside with his tale unfinished.

Ethelbert came forth with a smiling return to our salute, and with him came his mother and the four ladies who were to bear us company on the way.  One of these was, of course, the Lady Hilda, and I dismounted and left my horse to a groom for the time, having promised myself the pleasure of helping her to mount.