“Yes, it is rather different to the view from the top of the tower of Notre Dame, which I ascended while I was staying in Paris.  But this sort of building is best here; the thickness of the stone roofs keeps out the heat of the sun, and it is only when it is almost overhead that it shines down into the narrow streets.  As you can see by the number of the people on the roofs, they use them as a resort in the evening.  Then carpets are spread, and they receive visitors, and can talk to their neighbours over the low walls that separate the roofs.  You can trace the divisions.  Some of the house roofs are larger than others, but all are upon the same level; this being the regulation, in order that there might be free passage everywhere for the troops.”

By the time they had made the circuit of the walls darkness had fallen, and concealed the martial features of the scene.  Lights twinkled everywhere upon the stone terraces; the sound of lutes and other musical instruments came up softly on the still air, with the hum of talk and laughter.  The sea lay as smooth as a mirror, and reflected the light of the stars, and the black hulls of the galleys and ships in the harbour lay still and motionless.

Greatly pleased with his first experience of the city that was to be his future home, Gervaise returned, with his companions, to the auberge of Auvergne.

The next morning the bailiff D’Aubusson bade Gervaise accompany him to the palace of the grand master.  Here he introduced him to Orsini, an old and feeble man, who, after a few kind words, handed him over to the chamberlain, who, in turn, led him to the official who was in charge of the pages.  That officer took him down to the courtyard, where four young knights were engaged in superintending the military exercises of the pages.  The scene was exactly the same as that to which Gervaise had been accustomed at the House in London.  Some of the lads were fighting with blunted swords, others were swinging heavy bars of iron, climbing ropes, or vaulting on to the back of a wooden horse.  All paused as the official entered with his charge.

“This is your new comrade, boys,” he said —­ “Master Gervaise Tresham, a member of the English langue.  Be good comrades to him.  By the reports I hear I am sure that you will find him a worthy companion.”

The pages had been prepared to like the newcomer, for it was well known that he owed his appointment to the bailiff of Auvergne, who was the most popular of the officials of the Order, and who was already regarded as the grand master.  His appearance confirmed their anticipation.  His fair complexion and nut brown hair tinged with gold, cut somewhat short, but with a natural wave, contrasted with their darker locks and faces bronzed by the sun.  There was an honest and frank look in his grey eyes, and an expression of good temper on his face, though the square chin and firm lips spoke of earnestness and resolution of purpose.  The official took him round the circle and presented him first to the knights and then to each of his comrades.