one, darting from behind a tree, caught her while she passed, Amable,
with the stifled scream of alarm, which maidens are wont to give when
they wish it unheard by all save one, found herself in the arms of
Guillaume. * * * *

This was a proud and a happy day for Arthault. His head was in the
clouds; he scarcely seemed to touch the earth with his feet; but yet,
with the strong control which worldly men are wont to exercise over
their feelings, he schooled his aspect into the bland and lowly
expression of grateful humility. When, in the early part of the morning,
the echoes of Nogent (the chateau) were awakened by a flourish of
trumpets, which proclaimed the approach of the Count, instead of waiting
to receive him in the arcade under the belfry, according to the common
usage of lords at that period,[4] he walked bare-headed to the gate of
the outer court, and, kneeling, held the prince's stirrup as he
dismounted.

The breakfast was served in cups and porringers of silver, set on a
magnificent gold tray, and consisted chiefly of milk made thick with
honey, peeled barley, cherries dried in the sun, and preserved
barberries. The bread was of the _mias_ cakes, composed of
rye-flour, cream, orange-water, and new-laid eggs;[5] and the whole was
distributed among the guests by Guillaume; the host himself having been
compelled to take his seat at table by the Count.

The morning was spent in viewing the improvements of the place,
and riding about the neighbourhood; and at ten o'clock the company
partook of a dinner served in the same style of tasteful magnificence.
The viands included, among other things, a lamb roasted whole, the head
of a wild boar covered with flowers, fried trouts, and poached eggs,