hter, the work of
many merry voices; there was the grinding noise of heavy chairs
pushed back across the floor for the greater ease of their occupants;
there was a tapping as of pipe-bowls on the board, and then over all
the mingled din rose a voice, which Brilliana knew for the voice of
Halfman, ringing out a resonant appeal.

"The King's health, friends, to begin with."

All the noises that had died down to allow Halfman a hearing began
again with fresh vigor. It was obvious to the most unsophisticated
listener that here was the fag end of a feast and the moment for the
genial giving of toasts. Many voices swelled a loyal chorus of "The
King, the King!" and had the great doors of the banqueting-hall been
no other than bright glass it would have been scarce easier for the
man and woman in the great hall to realize what was happening, the
revellers rising to their feet, the drinking-vessels lifted high in
air with loyal vociferations, and then the silence, eloquent of
tilted mugs and the running of welcome liquor down the channels of
thirsty throats. This silence was broken by some one calling for a
song, to which call he who had proposed the King's health answered
instantly and with evident satisfaction. His rich if somewhat rough
voice came booming through the partitions, carolling a ballad to
which the Puritan listened with a perfectly unmoved countenance,
while the Lady Brilliana's eager face expressed every signal of the
liveliest delight.

This was the song that came across the threshold:

"What creature's this with his short hairs,
His little band and huge long ears,
That this new faith hath founded?
The Puritans were never such,
The saints themselves had ne'er so much,
Oh, such a knave's a Roundhead."

A yell of pleasure followed this verse, and a tuneless chorus
thundered the refrain, "Oh, such a knave's a Roundhead," with the
most evident relish for the sentiments of the song. Brilliana looked
with some impatience at the unruffled face of her adversary, and
when the immediate clamor dwindled she addressed him, sarcastically:

"These revellers," she said, "would not seem to be at the last
extremity. But their festival must not deafen our conference."

She advanced to the door of the banqueting-room and struck against it
with her hand. On the instant silence she opened the door a little
way and spoke through softly, as if gently chiding those within.

"Be merry more