Her arms also were bare, and showed in the lamplight whiter than milk.  She had removed the silver belt, and was tying a red silken scarf about her waist in a manner which revealed a swift grace and lithe sinuosity of movement, making her beauty appear yet more wonderful and more desirable to the young man’s eyes.

On either side the pavilion were placed folding couches of rosy silk, and in the corner, draped with rich blue hangings, glimmered the lady’s bed, its fair white linen half revealed.  Two embroidered pillows were at the foot, and on a little table beside it a crystal ball on a black platter.

No crucifix or prie-dieu, such as in those days was in every lady’s bower, could be discerned anywhere about the pavilion.

So soon as the tent-flap had fallen with a soft rustle behind him, the Earl William abandoned himself to the strange enchantment of his surroundings.  He did not stop to ask himself how it was possible that such dainty providings had been brought into the midst of his wide, wild realm of Galloway.  Nor yet why this errant damsel should in the darksome night-time find herself alone on this hilltop with the tents of her retinue standing empty and silent about.  The present sufficed him.  The soft radiance of dark eyes fell upon him, and all the quick-running, inconsiderate Douglas blood rushed and sang in his veins, responsive to that subtle shining.

He was with a fair woman, and she not unwilling to be kind.  That was ever enough for all the race of the Black Douglas.  What the Red Douglas loved is another matter.  Their ambitions were more reputable, but greatly less generous.

“My lord,” said the lady, giving him her hand, “will you lead me to the table?  I cannot offer you the refreshment of any elaborate toilet, but here, at least, is wheaten bread to eat and wine of a good vintage to drink.”

“You yourself scarce need such earthly sustenance,” he answered gallantly, “for your eyes have stolen the radiance of the stars, and ’tis evident that the night dews visit your cheek only as they do the roses—­to render them more fresh and fair.”

“My lord flatters well for one so young;” she smiled as she seated herself and motioned him to sit close beside her.  “How comes it that in this wild place you have learned to speak so chivalrously?”

“When one answers beauty the words are somehow given,” he said, “and, moreover, I have not dwelt in grey Galloway all my days.”

“You speak French?” she queried in that tongue.

“Ah,” she said when he answered, “the divine language.  I knew you were perfect.”  And so for a long while the young man sat spellbound, watching the smiles coming and going upon her red and flower-like lips, and listening to the fast-running ripple of her foreign talk.  It was pleasure enough to hearken without reply.

It seemed no common food of mortal men that was set before William Douglas, served with the sweep of white arms and the bend of delicate fingers upon the chalice stem.  He did not care to eat, but again and again he set the wine cup down empty, for the vintage was new to him, and brought with it a haunting aroma, instinct with strange hopes and vivid with unknown joys.