CHAPTER XXIX. HOW THE BLESSED HOUR OF SIGHT CAME TO THE LADY TIPHAINE.

SirTristramdeRochefort,SeneschalofAuvergneandLordofVillefranche,wasafierceandrenownedsoldierwhohadgrowngrayintheEnglishwars.Aslordofthemarchesandguardianofanexposedcountry-side,therewaslittlerestforhimevenintimesofso-calledpeace,andhiswholelifewasspentinraidsandoutfallsupontheBrabanters,late-comers,flayers,freecompanions,androvingarcherswhowanderedoverhisprovince.Attimeshewouldcomebackintriumph,andadozencorpsesswingingfromthesummitofhiskeepwouldwarnevil-doersthattherewasstillalawintheland.Atothershisventureswerenotsohappy,andheandhistroopwouldspuritoverthedrawbridgewithclatterofhoofshardattheirheelsandwhistleofarrowsabouttheirears.Hardhewasofhandandharderofheart,hatedbyhisfoes,andyetnotlovedbythosewhomheprotected,fortwicehehadbeentakenprisoner,andtwicehisransomhadbeenwrungbydintofblowsandtorturesoutofthestarvingpeasantsandruinedfarmers.Wolvesorwatch-dogs,itwashardtosayfromwhichthesheephadmosttofear. TheCastleofVillefranchewasharshandsternasitsmaster.Abroadmoat,ahighouterwallturretedatthecorners,withagreatblackkeeptoweringaboveall—soitlaybeforetheminthemoonlight.Bythelightoftwoflambeaux,protrudedthroughthenarrowslit-shapedopeningsateithersideoftheponderousgate,theycaughtaglimpseoftheglitteroffierceeyesandofthegleamoftheweaponsoftheguard.Thesightofthetwo-headedeagleofDuGuesclin,however,wasapassportintoanyfortaliceinFrance,anderetheyhadpassedthegatetheoldborderknightcamerunningforwardswithhandsout-throwntogreethisfamouscountryman.NorwashelessgladtoseeSirNigel,whentheEnglishman'serrandwasexplainedtohim,forthesearchershadbeenasorethorninhissideandhadroutedtwoexpeditionswhichhehadsentagainstthem.AhappydayitwouldbefortheSeneschalofAuvergnewhentheyshouldlearnthatthelastyewbowwasoverthemarches. Thematerialforafeastwaseverathandindayswhen,iftherewasgrimwantinthecottage,therewasatleastrudeplentyinthecastle.Withinanhourtheguestswereseatedaroundaboardwhichcreakedunderthegreatpastiesandjointsofmeat,variedbythosemoredaintydishesinwhichtheFrenchexcelled,thespicedortolanandthetruffledbeccaficoes.TheLadyRochefort,abrightandlaughter-lovingdame,satupontheleftofherwarlikespouse,withLadyTiphaineupontheright.BeneathsatDuGuesclinandSirNigel,withSirAmoryMonticourt,oftheorderoftheHospitallers,andSirOttoHarnit,awanderingknightfromthekingdomofBohemia.ThesewithAlleyneandFord,fourFrenchsquires,andthecastlechaplain,madethecompanywhosattogetherthatnightandmadegoodcheerintheCastleofVillefranche.Thegreatfirecrackledinthegrate,thehoodedhawkssleptupontheirperches,theroughdeer-houndswithexpectanteyescroucheduponthetiledfloorcloseattheelbowsoftheguestsstoodthedapperlittlelilac-coatedpagesthelaughandjestcircledroundandallwasharmonyandcomfort.Littletheyreckedofthebrushwoodmenwhocrouchedintheirragsalongthefringeoftheforestandlookedwithwildandhaggardeyesattherich,warmglowwhichshotagoldenbaroflightfromthehigharchedwindowsofthecastle. Supperover,thetablesdormantwereclearedawayasbymagicandtrestlesandbancalsarrangedaroundtheblazingfire,fortherewasabitternipintheair.TheLadyTiphainehadsunkbackinhercushionedchair,andherlongdarklashesdroopedlowoverhersparklingeyes.Alleyne,glancingather,notedthatherbreathcamequickandshort,andthathercheekshadblanchedtoalilywhite.DuGuesclineyedherkeenlyfromtimetotime,andpassedhisbroadbrownfingersthroughhiscrisp,curlyblackhairwiththeairofamanwhoisperplexedinhismind. “Thesefolkhere,”saidtheknightofBohemia,“theydonotseemtoowellfed.” “Ah,canaille!”criedtheLordofVillefranche.“Youwouldscarcecreditit,andyetitissooththatwhenIwastakenatPoictiersitwasallthatmywifeandfoster-brothercoulddotoraisethemoneyfromthemformyransom.Thesulkydogswouldratherhavethreetwistsofarack