Standing by the high, narrow window, his head leaning against the stone work, as if he strove to see beyond into the courtyard, was Yvon de Mereac, and Gwennola noted the restless, uneasy expression of his handsome face as he turned to greet her. "Fair sister," he began nervously, as he bowed with the courtesy which in those days of chivalry even brothers paid to their sisters. "Pardon me for so hasty a summons, but—but——" "Jobik bade me hasten to greet an unexpected guest," replied Gwennola, glancing round the room in surprise at seeing no other occupant saving her brother. "Ay," replied Yvon with growing uneasiness. "I pray you, my Gwennola, of your courtesy, greet the lady graciously, for——" "Nay," retorted his sister with some haughtiness. "Am I then accustomed to treat guests so unbecomingly, that thou needest to school me in my manners, Yvon?" "Nay, nay," he replied anxiously. "Again thy pardon, little sister, but methought,—methought perchance the name might strike unpleasingly upon thine ear, did I not first explain." "The name?" repeated Gwennola wonderingly. "In sooth, brother, I take not thy meaning." "It is Mademoiselle de Coray," he muttered hurriedly. "Nay, sister, look not so angrily; she hath come, poor maid, on an errand of peace." "Peace!" echoed Gwennola, her face hardening into lines so proud and cold as to recall the stern look of her father, "a de Coray bound on peace? Sooner would I trust the serpent who spoke soft words to our Mother Eve to have come on an errand of love to mankind than the sister of Guillaume de Coray to be bound on such a mission." "Nay, thy words are unjust," said Yvon hotly. "But stay, thou shalt not judge till thou hast seen her, for once look into her eyes and thou shalt read there such wells of innocence and truth as shall shame thee of suspicion." "Innocence and truth!" replied Gwennola scornfully. "So perchance thought Adam when he looked into Eve’s eyes and plucked the apple from her hand; but tell me, then, what hath brought this paragon of beauty and perfection to our poor Château of Mereac? There must e’en be good reason to bring so fair a dame across Brittany in these times." "Thy mocking becomes thee not," retorted Yvon coldly. "As for the errand of Mademoiselle de Coray, thou shalt judge for thyself whether it augurs more of deceit than of such sweetness of disposition as I fear me thou wilt scarce appreciate in thy present wayward mood." "Wayward mood!" echoed Gwennola indignantly, for a seventeen-year-old châtelaine could hardly thus calmly brook being chidden as a child. "Wayward mood, forsooth! but we shall see in good time who is the wise one. Yet mayhap thou wilt tell me, most wise and well-discerning brother, of what import the story was? Whereof it was made I wot I know already." Perhaps Yvon did not hear the last few words, in his eagerness to convert his sister to a more amenable mood concerning their guest.