mple hearths, and the
smoke curled about in thick white folds in the vaulted roof, adding to
the wreaths of soot, which made the hall look still darker.

The fire at the lower end was by far the largest and hottest. Great
black cauldrons hung over it, and servants, both men and women, with red
faces, bare and grimed arms, and long iron hooks, or pots and pans, were
busied around it. At the other end, which was raised about three steps
above the floor of the hall, other servants were engaged. Two young
maidens were strewing fresh rushes on the floor; some men were setting up
a long table of rough boards, supported on trestles, and then ranging
upon it silver cups, drinking horns, and wooden trenchers.

Benches were placed to receive most of the guests, but in the middle, at
the place of honour, was a high chair with very thick crossing legs, and
the arms curiously carved with lions' faces and claws; a clumsy wooden
footstool was set in front, and the silver drinking-cup on the table was
of far more beautiful workmanship than the others, richly chased with
vine leaves and grapes, and figures of little boys with goats' legs. If
that cup could have told its story, it would have been a strange one, for
it had been made long since, in the old Roman times, and been carried off
from Italy by some Northman pirate.

From one of these scenes of activity to the other, there moved a stately
old lady: her long thick light hair, hardly touched with grey, was bound
round her head, under a tall white cap, with a band passing under her
chin: she wore a long sweeping dark robe, with wide hanging sleeves, and
thick gold ear-rings and necklace, which had possibly come from the same
quarter as the cup. She directed the servants, inspected both the
cookery and arrangements of the table, held council with an old steward,
now and then looked rather anxiously from the window, as if expecting
some one, and began to say something about fears that these loitering
youths would not bring home the venison in time for Duke William's
supper.

Presently, she looked up rejoiced, for a few notes of a bugle-horn were
sounded; there was a clattering of feet, and in a few moments there
bounded into the hall, a boy of about eight years old, his cheeks and
large blue eyes bright with air and exercise, and his long light-brown
hair streaming behind him, as he ran forward flourishing a bow in his
hand, and crying out, "I hit him, I hit him! Dame Astrida,