led the way until they came to a large house which
stood by itself. Peering at it from the edge of the cutting, Aylward
could see that it was made from the wreckage of many vessels, for at
each corner a prow was thrust out. Lights blazed within, and there came
the sound of a strong voice singing a gay song which was taken up by a
dozen others in the chorus.

"All is well, lad!" whispered Simon in great delight. "That is the voice
of the King. It is the very song he used to sing. 'Les deux filles de
Pierre.' 'Fore God, my back tingles at the very sound of it. Here we
will wait until his company take their leave."

Hour after hour they crouched in the peat-cutting, listening to the
noisy songs of the revelers within, some French, some English, and all
growing fouler and less articulate as the night wore on. Once a
quarrel broke out and the clamor was like a cageful of wild beasts at
feeding-time. Then a health was drunk and there was much stamping and
cheering.

Only once was the long vigil broken. A woman came forth from the house
and walked up and down, with her face sunk upon her breast. She was tall
and slender, but her features could not be seen for a wimple over her
head. Weary sadness could be read in her bowed back and dragging steps.
Once only they saw her throw her two hands up to Heaven as one who is
beyond human aid. Then she passed slowly into the house again. A moment
later the door of the hall was flung open, and a shouting stumbling
throng came crowding forth, with whoop and yell, into the silent
night. Linking arms and striking up a chorus, they marched past the
peat-cutting, their voices dwindling slowly away as they made for their
homes.

"Now, Samkin, now!" cried Simon, and jumping out from the hiding-place
he made for the door. It had not yet been fastened. The two comrades
sprang inside. Then Simon drew the bolts so that none might interrupt
them.

A long table littered with flagons and beakers lay before them. It was
lit up by a line of torches, which flickered and smoked in their iron
sconces. At the farther end a solitary man was seated. His head rested
upon his two hands, as if he were befuddled with wine, but at the harsh
sound of the snapping bolts he raised his face and looked angrily around
him. It was a strange powerful head, tawny and shaggy like a lion's,
with a tangled beard and a large harsh face, bloated and blotched with
vice. He laughed as the newcomers entered, thinking that t