But why he should be lying here scarce an
hour dead, here in fair France in this Castle of Fael under my lady's
tower, when he might have been serving his master in all the blithe
fighting in Terre Sainte,--I could not guess. But I raised not hue nor
cry for, certes, there was some black mystery here; only wept silently
and prayed mercy on his soul that had been so brave and so merry a
fellow. After a while, when my eyes were less red, I went and mingled
among the folk in the hall, where there was talk of how my lord had
passed through to his chamber an hour ago, very pale and with the
wine-fumes all cleared away, it would seem, and had let call the cook,
who came back with something under his apron and looking as if he had
seen a spirit, but dumb as a stone. Also, said they, my lord had
commanded that he and my lady would sup alone in her great chamber,
and that I only should serve them.
So presently I went up and served my lord and my lady where they sat
at a little table alight with many tapers, like the shrine in the
great church at Soissons, with the goblets and the silver dishes
making a brave show among them.
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