CHAPTER II.


"And now," said William, reclining on a long and narrow couch, with
raised carved work all round it like a box (the approved fashion of a
bed in those days), "now, Sire Taillefer--thy news."

There were then in the Duke's chamber, the Count Fitzosborne, Lord of
Breteuil, surnamed "the Proud Spirit"--who, with great dignity, was
holding before the brazier the ample tunic of linen (called
dormitorium in the Latin of that time, and night-rail in the Saxon
tongue) in which his lord was to robe his formidable limbs for repose
[62],--Taillefer, who stood erect before the Duke as a Roman sentry at
his post,--and the ecclesiastic, a little apart, with arms gathered
under his gown, and his bright dark eyes fixed on the ground.

"High and puissant, my liege," then said Taillefer, gravely, and with
a shade of sympathy on his large face, "my news is such as is best
told briefly: Bunaz, Count d'Eu and descendant of Richard Sanspeur,
hath raised the standard of revolt."

"Go on," said the Duke, clenching his hand.

"Henry, King of the French, is treating with the rebel, and stirring
up mutiny in thy realm, and pretenders to thy throne."

"Ha!" said the Duke, and his lip quivered; "this is not all."