stair, till Atra stayed at last at a door all done with iron, endlong
and over-thwart. Then she took a leash of keys from her girdle, one
big and two little, and set the big one in the lock and turned it,
and shoved the heavy door and entered thereby a chamber four-square
and vaulted; and the vault was upheld by a pillar of red marble,
wherein, somewhat higher than a man's head, were set stanchions of
latten, that could be clasped and unclasped. This chamber was in a
way goodly, but yet grim to look on; for the walls were all of black
ashlar stone close-jointed, and the floor black also, but of marble
polished so wholly that it was as dark water, and gave back the image
of Birdalone's dear feet and legs as she went thereon. The windows
were not small, and the chamber was light in every corner because of
them, but they were so high up under the vaulting that none might see
thereout aught save the heavens. There was nought in the chamber
save a narrow bench of oak and three stools of the same, a great and
stately carven chair dight with cushions of purple and gold, and in
one corner a big oaken coffer.

Now spake Atra: This is our lady's prison, and I fear me we cannot
make it soft for thee, dear stranger. Yea, I must tell thee (and she
reddened therewith) that it is part of my charge to set thee in
irons. Birdalone smiled on her, and was over weary to ask what that
meant, though she knew not. But Atra went to the big coffer and
opened it and thrust in her hands, and there was a jangling
therewith, and when she turned about to Birdalone again she had iron
chains in her hands, and she said: This shameth me, dear friend; yet
if thou wouldst wear them it might be well, for she may have a mind
to go visit her prison, and if she find thee there unshackled she
shall be wroth, and oftenest her wrath hath a whip in its hand. And
these are the lightest that I might find.