THE LITTLE DUKE




CHAPTER I



On a bright autumn day, as long ago as the year 943, there was a
great bustle in the Castle of Bayeux in Normandy.

The hall was large and low, the roof arched, and supported on thick
short columns, almost like the crypt of a Cathedral; the walls were
thick, and the windows, which had no glass, were very small, set in
such a depth of wall that there was a wide deep window seat, upon
which the rain might beat, without reaching the interior of the room.
And even if it had come in, there was nothing for it to hurt, for the
walls were of rough stone, and the floor of tiles. There was a fire
at each end of this great dark apartment, but there were no chimneys
over the ample hearths, and the smoke curled about in thick white
folds in the vaulted roof, adding to the wreaths of soot, which made
the hall look still darker.

The fire at the lower end was by far the largest and hottest. Great
black cauldrons hung over it, and servants, both men and women, with
red faces, bare and grimed arms, and long iron hooks, or pots and
pans, were busied around it. At the other end, which was raised
about three steps above the floor of the hall, other servants were
engaged. Two young maidens were strewing fresh rushes on the floor;