“Thou art sparing of thy food, Sir Knight; but doubtless thou art used to other diet than this: the board of a Saxon thane hath but little to tempt the palate of the son of a Norman noble.” “Thou wrongest thine own hospitality, noble thane,” replied the other, collecting his spirits, and making an effort to be polite. “Womanly indeed should I be, if I were not used to harder fare than this! My father, the forester--that is, I mean, my father, the baron.” And again Reginald looked confused, and paused, and was silent. “Cheer thee, noble Reginald,” said his host; “thou art wearied with thy journey, and thy wits wander.” “Perchance,” said the fair Elfrida, “Sir Reginald hath lost them on the way!” The menials echoed applause, and Reginald looked yet more foolish than before. “Thou dost belie thy character strangely,” continued the old man; “fame hath told us that in the whole shire there is not a jollier boon companion nor a truer lover of the cup.” “It is true that Sir Reginald d’Arennes hath had that reputation,” replied the Norman, “and his best friends have judged that he would do well to put it away.” “By the holy Confessor,” cried Leofwyn, “not upon his wedding-day! Out upon the idea! What, ho! Osric, fill up for Sir Reginald. Pledge me, gallant Knight. The health of thy bride--of Elfrida!” “I will do thee reason,” said Reginald, raising the cup to his lips; but, at the mention of the name of Elfrida, some of the vassals burst into such a clamorous fit of laughter that he set it down in astonishment. Leofwyn remarked his surprise, and endeavoured to dispel it. “Thou seest, good son, that there is a kind of pageant toward, at which these boors are marvellously pleased; but be not the less inclined to join in our banquet. We wait but for the arrival of my son Lothaire, and all disguise shall be stripped off.” “Disguise!” cried the guest, dropping the cup, and starting from his seat, “a murrain on the tell-tale! How didst thou learn----” “Nay, my son,” said the Saxon, as if endeavouring to retract an unguarded expression, “we are all somewhat disguised--in liquor.” Reginald resumed his seat, and, in a short time, began to drink most valorously, as if striving to drown in the rich pigment some unpleasant suspicions. By degrees, his head, which was evidently weaker than the one fame had attributed to Reginald d’Arennes, began to be overpowered by the frequent potations which were forced upon him by his host; and while Leofwyn and his retainers, and even the modest Elfrida, were immensely amused by his awkward situation, the hapless bridegroom showed the effects of Saxon hospitality in rhapsodical and unintelligable exclamations.