ther
fans of the ladies of the family and their attendants, who from this
high place looked down upon the hall below. Up the centre of the hall
was laid a carpet of arras, and the passage was protected by wooden
railings. Upon the one side were tiers of seats for the castle
gentlefolks and the guests. Upon the other stood the burghers from the
town, clad in sober dun and russet, and yeomanry in green and brown. The
whole of the great vaulted hall was full of the dull hum of many people
waiting, and a ceaseless restlessness stirred the crowded throng. But
at last a whisper went around that the King was coming. A momentary hush
fell, and through it was heard the noisy clatter of horses' feet coming
nearer and nearer, and then stopping before the door. The sudden blare
of trumpets broke through the hush; another pause, and then in through
the great door-way of the hall came the royal procession.

First of all marched, in the order of their rank, and to the number of
a score or more, certain gentlemen, esquires and knights, chosen mostly
from the King's attendants. Behind these came two pursuivants-at-arms
in tabards, and following them a party of a dozen more bannerets
and barons. Behind these again, a little space intervening, came two
heralds, also in tabards, a group of the greater nobles attendant
upon the King following in the order of their rank. Next came the
King-at-arms and, at a little distance and walking with sober slowness,
the King himself, with the Earl and the Count directly attendant upon
him--the one marching upon the right hand and the other upon the left.
A breathless silence filled the whole space as the royal procession
advanced slowly up the hall. Through the stillness could be heard the
muffled sound of the footsteps on the carpet, the dry rustling of
silk and satin garments, and the clear clink and jingle of chains and
jewelled ornaments, but not the sound of a single voice.

After the moment or two of bustle and confusion of the King taking his
place had passed, another little space of expectant silence fell. At
last there suddenly came the noise of acclamation of those who stood
without the door--cheering and the clapping of hands--sounds heralding
the immediate advent of Myles and his attendants. The next moment the
little party entered the hall.

First of all, Gascoyne, bearing Myles's sword in both hands, the hilt
resting against his breast, the point elevated at an angle of forty-five
degr