great arm-chair with a head, and curtains to keep off the draughts, which
were many and bitterly cold in winter-time.

The chronicler of Bayard, known as the "Loyal Servitor," begins his story
on a spring day of the year 1487.

Aymon Terrail, lord of Bayard, sat by the fireside in his own chamber, the
walls of which were hung with old arms and trophies of the chase. He felt
ill and out of spirits. He was growing old--he had not long to live: so he
assured his good wife.

What was to become of his sons when he was gone? A sudden thought occurred
to him. "I will send for them at once, and we will give them a voice in the
matter."

To this the lady of Bayard agreed, for she never crossed her lord's will,
and at least it would distract his gloomy thoughts. It chanced that all the
four lads were at home, and ready to obey their father's command. As they
entered the room and came forward, one by one, in front of the great chair
by the hearth, somewhat awed by this hasty summons, they were encouraged by
a smile from their mother, who sat quietly in the background with her
embroidery.

The assembled group made a striking picture. The grand old man, a massive
figure seated in his canopied arm-chair, with white hair and flowing beard
and piercing black eyes, was closely wrapped in a long dark robe lined with
fur, and wore a velvet cap which came down over his shaggy brows. Before
him stood his four well-grown, sturdy, ruddy-faced boys, awaiting his
pleasure with seemly reverence, for none of them would have dared to be
seated unbidden in the presence of their father. Aymon de Bayard turned to