chorus. Eurydice, the singer went on, was an excellent cook, so renowned
that the prince of the lower regions abducted her, and Orpheus was allowed
to regain possession of her only on the solemn condition that she should
make a pie for that sovereign every twelvemonth. This pie, according to
the final verse of the song, would now be cut, so that the company could
see exactly what a Plutonian banquet was like.

The troubadour borrowed a dagger from a man-at-arms, made one or two
slashes at the ornate crust of the pie--and out flew four live pigeons.

Then Peirol gave his birdlike call, and eluding the hands raised to catch
them the pigeons swooped down to him. Ranulph began to dance, playing his
lute at the same time, and the boy followed, with the doves flying above
him just out of reach. In saucy improvised couplets the troubadour called
upon one and another to join the dancing, until before any one quite knew
what was happening, the company in the lower hall was drawn into a winding
lengthening line following the leaders in a sort of farandole. The hall
was not large enough for this to go on indefinitely, and Ranulph suddenly
bolted into the outer air, where the shouting, laughing crowd paused for
breath--and the pigeons went soaring into the sky.

The party from the table on the dais came out to look on, and Garin de
Biterres, as he saw the mounting birds, grew suspicious. "Here, Jean!
Michaud!" he said sharply. "Loose the hunting hawks!"

Ranulph's heart missed a beat, but he dared not betray himself by a
tremor. Hawks could be trained to pursue carriers, but the doves had a
fair start and might be able to get away. The two birds of prey which the
men brought were moreover not the type of hawk used especially to hunt
pigeons, but young falcons or tercels. The men bungled in handling them;