embroidered in open-work squares. At each end of the table was a large
silver dish, one containing a meat-pie, the other a pie made of the meat
of various fowls with savory seasoning. On silver plates were slices of
cold chicken and meat. Glass trays contained salad, lettuces, radishes and
olives. The salt, pepper and spices were in silver and gold dishes of
fanciful shapes. Here and there were crystal vases of freshly gathered
roses and violets. On the corners of the table were trenchers of white
bread--wastel, cocket, manchet, of fine wheaten flour,--and brown bread of
barley, millet and rye. For dessert there were the spicy apples of
Auvergne, Spanish oranges, raisins, figs, little sweet cakes, wine white
and red, and nuts in a great carved brass dish of the finest Saracen work,
with carved wood nut-crackers. Ewers and basins of decorated brass, for
washing the hands after the meal, were ready. Eastern carpets and
cushions, placed upon a bank under the trees, would afford a place where
the company, after dining, might linger for hours, enjoying the gay give-
and-take of conversation, the songs of artists who knew their art, and the
constant musical undertone of winds, birds and waters. The surprise which
Ranulph had planned was designed for the moment when the guests began to
dally with nuts and wine, reluctant to leave the table. Some one called
upon the troubadour to sing. He had counted upon this. Rising, he bowed to
the Count and his daughter, and began:

"In the month of Arcady
Green the summer meadows be,--
When the dawn with fingers light
Lifts the curtains of the night,
And from tented crimson skies
Glorious doth the sun arise,--
Who are these who give him greeting,
On swift wings approaching, fleeting,--