by women. They know the secret and
hidden motives of courts, and have this great advantage, that they can
use their knowledge without personal fear, since women are never
seriously interfered with, but are protected by all.

The one terrible and utterly shameful instance to the contrary had not
occurred at the time of which we are now speaking, and it was and is
still repudiated by every man, from the knight to the boys who gather
acorns for the swine. Oliver himself had no idea whatever that he was
regarded as a favourite lover of the Duchess; he took the welcome that
was held out to him as perfectly honest. Plain, straightforward, and
honest, Oliver, had he been openly singled out by a queen, would have
scorned to give himself an air for such a reason. But the Baron, deep in
intrigue this many a year, looked more profoundly into the possibilities
of the future when he kept the young knight at his side.

CHAPTER IX

SUPERSTITIONS

Felix was now outside the town and alone in the meadow which bordered
the stream; he knelt, and drank from it with the hollow of his hand. He
was going to ascend the hill beyond, and had already reached the barrier
upon that side, when he recollected that etiquette demanded the presence
of the guests at meal-times, and it was now the hour for tea. He
hastened back, and found the courtyard of the castle crowded. Within,
the staircase leading to the Baroness's chamber (where tea was served)
could scarcely be ascended, what with the ladies and their courtiers,
the long trains of the serving-women, the pages winding their way in and
out, the servants endeavouring to pass, the slender pet greyhounds, the
inseparable companions of their mistresses.

By degrees, and exercising patience, he gained the upper floor and
entered the drawing-room. The Baroness alone sat at the table, the
guests wheresoever they chose, or chance carried them; for the most part
they stood, or leaned against the recess of the open window. Of tea
itself there was none; there had been no tea to be had for love or money
these fifty years past, and, indeed, its use would have been forgotten,
and the name only survived, had not some small quantities been yet
preserved and brought out on rare occasions at the palaces. Instead,
there was chicory prepared from the root of the plant, grown for the
purpose; fresh milk; fine ale and mead; and wine from Gloucester.
Butter, honey, and cake were also on the table.

The gues