At dead of night, a loud voice roused the royal household from repose; and the officers, starting to their feet to listen, with surprise heard the king invoking the aid of the Virgin Mary, and calling for lights in his chamber. On entering, they learned that his rest had been disturbed by a fearful vision, in which he himself figured with the veins of his arms broken and blood flowing in streams. Such was the effect produced on the King's imagination, that he would not allow them to leave the side of his couch till the sun rose, and the light of day streamed into the chamber. Nevertheless, on the morning of Thursday, a grand breakfast was spread in the hall of the hunting-seat, and Rufus rose to indulge in the good cheer. As he was dressing, however, a messenger arrived with a despatch from the Norman Abbot of Gloucester, warning the king that danger was at hand. "One of my monks," said the abbot, "has had a dream of evil omen. He has seen Jesus Christ seated on His throne, and at His feet a woman supplicating Him in these words--'Saviour of the world, look down with pity upon this people, who suffer under the yoke of William.'" "Tush!" cried Rufus, breaking into a loud laugh; "do they take me for a Saxon with their dreams? Do they think I am one of the idiots who tremble because an old woman sneezes? But I warrant the monk would have something for his dream. Let him have a hundred shillings, and bid him look that he dream more auspicious dreams in future." With these words, Rufus tied his shoes, left his chamber, and seated himself at table with his friends around him. It was a gay party that feasted that morning in the hunting-lodge of Malwood, and included many personages of high degree. Among them were the king's brother, Henry Beauclerc; his bosom friend, Walter Tyrel; his bow-bearer, Nigel de Albini; his treasurer, William de Breteuil, who was eldest son of the great Fitzosborne, and hardly less proud than his father had been. Perhaps Rufus, with the scene of the previous night preying on his mind, felt unwontedly depressed. At all events, he ate more than usual, and drank copiously, as if to banish sadness. The potations, of course, soon took effect. The king's spirits rose. He blustered and swore with characteristic indecency. While Rufus was still passing round the wine-cup, an artificer brought him six arrows for cross-bows, which seemed so sharp and strong as to excite much admiration. The king received the arrows, praised the workmanship, took four for his own use, and handed the others to Walter Tyrel. "There, Tyrel," said he, "take two; for you know how to shoot to some purpose. Sharp arrows for the best shot! And now to horse!"