“Now, my merry men all,” said this authoritative personage, “a long and a weary path have we ridden to-day; and had we not been, as it were, lost in your savage wildernesses—­where our guide, whom we forced before us by dint of blows and hard usage, could scarce keep us in the right track—­we had been here before sunset.  Thanks to this saint of yours, whosoever he be, for we saw the watchlights at times from the chapel, as we guessed, else had we been longer in hitting our mark, and might, peradventure, have supped with the wolves on a haunch of venison.  Now for the stables.  What! have ye no knaves hereabout to help our followers with the beasts?”

Oliver, much troubled at this loquacious and unceremonious address, replied with some acrimony—­

“The household are in the chapel, where it had been better thou hadst let us bide, and given the corpse a quiet watchnight—­the vigils for the dead are not ended.”

“Go to, master seneschal, for of this post I do adjudge thee, and reverence thine office in respect of mine own, but let dead men make their own lanterns; we must have supper anyhow, and that right speedily.”

Oliver, after seeing the gate secured, sent Hugo for help, whilst he led the way himself into the hall of this once formidable fortress.  It was high and gloomy, the fire being apparently extinguished.  A step on the floor showed where the higher table was placed, prohibiting those beneath a certain rank from advancing upon the skirts of their superiors; an indispensable precaution, when servants and retainers of all sorts ate their meals with the master of the feast.  Perches for hawks, in form like unto a crutch, were placed behind his chair; for these birds were usually taught to sit hoodless in the evening among company undisturbed.  Hunting-spears, jackets, chain-armour, shields, and helmets, decorated the walls; and many a goodly heritage of antlers hung, like forest boughs stripped of their verdure.  There were two oriels furnished with leaning-stones for the convenience of loungers.  Painted glass filled the higher portions of the windows, representing uncouth heads, hands, feet, and bodies of saints, in all the glowing and gorgeous magnificence which the beam of heaven can give to colours of more than earthly brightness, though disposed in forms of more than childish absurdity.

The hall, the usual rendezvous of the household, was now deserted for the dread solemnities of that cheerless night.  But the stranger was much discouraged by reason of the coldness and gloom, shivering audibly at the comfortless appearance that was before him.

“St Martin’s malison light on ye—­fire, billets, and all—­I’ve seen nothing like to warm my bare nose and knuckles since we left Halton, two long days agone.  Verily, to my thinking, there’s as much timber burnt there daily as ye would pile here for a winter’s use.”