was given by the neighbours chosen, (whom now we call the Jury) in
matters between man and man; and no such doom of neighbours was given,
and no such voice of the Folk proclaimed in any house or under any roof,
nor even as aforesaid on the tilled acres or the depastured meadows. This
was the custom of our forefathers, in memory, belike, of the days when as
yet there was neither house nor tillage, nor flocks and herds, but the
Earth's face only and what freely grew thereon.

But over the dais there hung by chains and pulleys fastened to a tie-beam
of the roof high aloft a wondrous lamp fashioned of glass; yet of no such
glass as the folk made then and there, but of a fair and clear green like
an emerald, and all done with figures and knots in gold, and strange
beasts, and a warrior slaying a dragon, and the sun rising on the earth:
nor did any tale tell whence this lamp came, but it was held as an
ancient and holy thing by all the Markmen, and the kindred of the Wolf
had it in charge to keep a light burning in it night and day for ever;
and they appointed a maiden of their own kindred to that office; which
damsel must needs be unwedded, since no wedded woman dwelling under that
roof could be a Wolfing woman, but would needs be of the houses wherein
the Wolfings wedded.

This lamp which burned ever was called the Hall-Sun, and the woman who
had charge of it, and who was the fairest that might be found was called
after it the Hall-Sun also.

At the other end of the hall was the Woman's-Chamber, and therein were
the looms and other gear for the carding and spinning of wool and the
weaving of cloth.

Such was the Roof under which dwelt the kindred of the Wolfings; and the