welcome, too. Oswald, broach the oldest wine-cask; place the best mead, the mightiest ale, the richest morat, the most sparkling cider, the most odoriferous pigments,1 upon the board; fill the largest horns. Templars and abbots love good wines and good measure. Elgitha, let thy Lady Rowena know we shall not this night expect her in the hall, unless such be her especial pleasure."

"But it will be her especial pleasure," answered Elgitha, with great readiness, "for she is ever desirous to hear the latest news from Palestine."

Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty resentment; but Rowena, and whatever belonged to her, were privileged and secure from his anger. He only replied, "Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion. Say my message to thy mistress, and let her do her pleasure. Here, at least, the descendant of Alfred 2 still reigns a princess." Elgitha left the apartment.

"Palestine!" repeated the Saxon; "Palestine! How many ears are turned to the tales which dissolute crusaders or hypocritical pilgrims bring from that fatal land. I too might ask, I too might inquire, I too might listen with a beating heart to fables which the wily strollers devise to cheat us into hospitality; but no. The son who has disobeyed me is no longer mine; nor will I concern myself more for his fate than for that of the most worthless among the millions that ever shaped the cross on their shoulder, rushed into excess and blood-guiltiness, and called it an accomplishment of the will of God."

He knit his brows, and fixed his eyes for an instant on the ground; as he raised them, the folding-doors at the bottom of the hall were cast wide, and, preceded by the major-domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing blazing torches, the guests of the evening entered the apartment.

1 These were Saxon drinks. Mead was a fermented drink sweetened with honey; morat was made of honey and the juice of mulberries; and pigment was another sweetened and highly flavored wine.

2 Alfred the Great was the greatest of the Saxon kings, and under him for the first time England became one kingdom. He died in 901.

CHAPTER IV.

With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
And the proud steer was on the marble spread;
With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round;
Wine rosy bright the brimming goblets crown'd.

Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat ;
A trivet table and ignobler seat,
The Prince assigns -

Odyssey, Book XXI.

THE Prior Aymer had taken the opportunity afforded him of changing his riding-robe for one of yet more costly materials, over which he wore a cape curiously embroidered. Besides the massive golden signet ring, which marked his ecclesiastical dignity, his fingers, though contrary to the canon, were loaded with precious gems; his sandals were of the finest leather which was imported from Spain; his beard trimmed to as small dimensions as his order would possibly permit, and his shaven crown concealed by a scarlet cap richly embroidered.

The appearance of the Knight Templar was also changed; and, though less studiously bedecked with ornament, his dress was as rich, and his appearance far more commanding than that of his companion. He had exchanged his shirt of mail for an under tunic of dark purple silk, garnished with furs, over which flowed his long robe of spotless white, in ample folds. The eight-pointed cross of his order was cut on the shoulder of his mantle in black velvet. The high cap no longer invested his brows, which were only shaded by short and thick curled hair of a raven blackness, corresponding to his unusually swart complexion. Nothing could be more gracefully majestic than his step and manner, had they not been marked by a predominant air of haughtiness, easily acquired by the exercise of unresisted authority.

These two dignified persons were followed by their respective attendants, and at a more humble distance by their guide, whose figure had nothing more remarkable than it derived from the usual weeds 1 of a pilgrim. A

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1 Clothes, almost always mourning-garments.

cloak or mantle of coarse black serge enveloped his whole body. It was in shape something like the cloak of a modern hussar, having similar flaps for covering the arms, and was called a Sclaveyn, or Sclavonian. Coarse sandals, bound with thongs, on his bare feet; a broad and shadowy hat, with cockle-shells stitched on its brim, and a long staff shod with iron, to the upper end of which was attached a branch of palm, completed the palmer's attire. He followed modestly the last of the train which entered the hall, and observing that the lower table scarce afforded room sufficient for the domestics of Cedric and the retinue of his guests, he withdrew to a settle placed beside and almost under one of the large chimneys, and seemed to employ himself in drying his garments, until the retreat of some one should make room at the board, or the hospitality of the steward should supply him with refreshments in the place he had chosen apart.

Cedric rose to receive his guests with an air of dignified hospitality, and, descending from the dais, or elevated part of his hall, made three steps towards them, and then awaited their approach.

"I grieve," he said, "reverend Prior, that my vow binds me to advance no farther upon this floor of my fathers, even to receive such guests as you, and this valiant Knight of the Holy Temple. But my steward has expounded to you the cause of my seeming discourtesy. Let me also pray that you will excuse my speaking to you in my native language, and that you will reply in the same if your knowledge of it permits; if not, I sufficiently understand Norman to follow your meaning.

وو

"Vows," said the Abbot, "must be unloosed, worthy franklin, or permit me rather to say, worthy thane, though the title is antiquated. Vows are the knots which tie us to heaven; they are the cords which bind the sacrifice to the horns of the altar; and are therefore, as I said before, to be unloosened and discharged, unless our holy Mother Church shall pronounce the contrary. And respecting language, I willingly hold communication in that spoken by my respected grandmother, Hilda of Middle

ham, who died in odor of sanctity, little short, if we may presume to say so, of her glorious namesake, the blessed Saint Hilda1 of Whitby, God be gracious to her soul!"

When the Prior had ceased what he meant as a conciliatory harangue, his companion said, briefly and emphatically, "I speak ever French, the language of King Richard and his nobles; but I understand English sufficiently to communicate with the natives of the country."

Cedric darted at the speaker one of those hasty and impatient glances, which comparisons between the two rival nations seldom failed to call forth; but, recollecting the duties of hospitality, he suppressed farther show of resentment, and, motioning with his hand, caused his guests to assume two seats a little lower than his own, but placed close beside him, and gave a signal that the evening meal should be placed upon the board.

While the attendants hastened to obey Cedric's commands, his eye distinguished Gurth the swineherd, who, with his companion Wamba, had just entered the hall. "Send these loitering knaves up hither," said the Saxon impatiently. And when the culprits came before the dais, "How comes it, villains! that ye have loitered abroad so late as this? Hast thou brought home thy charge, sirrah 2 Gurth, or hast thou left them to robbers and marauders?"

"The herd is safe, so please ye," said Gurth.

"But it does not please me, thou knave," said Cedric, "that I should be made to suppose otherwise for two hours, and sit here devising vengeance against my neighbors for wrongs they have not done me. I tell thee, shackles and the prison-house shall punish the next offence of this kind."

Gurth, knowing his master's irritable temper, attempted no exculpation; but the Jester, who could presume upon Cedric's tolerance, by virtue of his privileges as a fool,

1 A Saxon abbess, of royal birth, the founder of the Abbey of Whitby, where the Anglo-Saxon poet, Cædmon, lived.

2 A form of address used only when speaking to inferiors. "You, fel low," comes as near the meaning as any modern phrase.

replied for them both: "In troth, uncle1 Cedric, you are neither wise nor reasonable to-night."

"How, sir?" said his master; "you shall to the porter's lodge, and taste of the discipline there, if you give your foolery such license.”

"First let your wisdom tell me,' " said Wamba, "is it just and reasonable to punish one person for the fault of another?"

"Certainly not, fool," answered Cedric.

"Then why should you shackle poor Gurth, uncle, for the fault of his dog Fangs? for I dare be sworn we lost not a minute by the way when we had got our herd together, which Fangs did not manage until we heard the vesper-bell."

"Then hang up Fangs," said Cedric, turning hastily towards the swineherd, "if the fault is his, and get thee another dog."

"Under favor, uncle," said the Jester, "that were still somewhat on the bow-hand 2 of fair justice; for it was no fault of Fangs that he was lame and could not gather the herd, but the fault of those that struck off two of his fore claws, an operation for which, if the poor fellow had been consulted, he would scarce have given his voice."

"And who dared to lame an animal which belonged to my bondsman?" said the Saxon, kindling in wrath.

"Marry, that did old Hubert," said Wamba, "Sir Philip de Malvoisin's keeper of the chase. He caught Fangs strolling in the forest, and said he chased the deer contrary to his master's right, as warden of the walk."

"The foul fiend take Malvoisin, "answered the Saxon, "and his keeper both! I will teach them that the wood was disforested in terms of the great Forest Charter. But

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1 The jester was permitted to speak in this familiar fashion, and uncle, used by him, means master; so also the word "cousin" was used.

2 The hand that held the bow, the left hand.

8 Taken out of the jurisdiction of the forest-laws that forbade or greatly restricted hunting. The exemption of large tracts from the strict Normar forest-rules was brought about by the Forest Charter, the date of which was 1215,- several years after the date of the story. But nobody (except Professor E. A. Freeman) cares to remember such an historical slip against Sir Walter. Ivanhoe is not a history.