The wardour was watching through the loop, How many were of the stranger’s troop. He had left his torch in the cullis’ bar, And it let down a light on the lonely night, That showed him harnessed, as for war. His coat was mail, his helm was steel; His visor did his look reveal; Yet o’er his brow it cast a shade, That made the wardour more afraid, Than did the crimsoned plume above, Or the mighty grasp of his iron glove. He would not let the stranger in, Till one, awakened by the din— One whom the wardour need obey— Seeing a lonely knight stand there, Bade the wardour nought to fear: He feared still, but he said not Nay: Yet he would not ope the portal gate To an unknown knight, without his state; For neither squire, nor page, he saw: He bade him then to the postern draw. X. The knight dismounted at the call; The porter let him through the wall; He turned the weary steed to stall, And led the knight to the lordly hall. I’ the lordly hall, so wide and dim, One drowsy squire awaited him. The ashy wood lay, white and cold, On the raised hearth, where late was told, With fiery eye and accent loud, The deed of martial prowess proud; Where late was told, in whispers low, Some tale of terror and of woe, The while each listener bent his head, Nor lost a word the trouveur said: Till fear crept o’er each nerve and vein, That late had swell’d to martial strain; And shadows crept along the wall, Such as the sinful soul appal: Till each, who heard, look’d round with dread, And saw some phantom of the dead. XI. Now silent was the hearth and lone, Save that a stag-hound slumber’d there. The tables in disorder were, With relics of the evening fare; The household to their rest were gone, And now no light was seen but one, The light that led the stranger on; That show’d above steel armour gleaming, And many a dusky banner streaming, From the black rafters of the roof, In the night-wind, far aloof, Like to some flitting phantom seeming; And, stalking o’er the rushy floor, It showed the knight where steps of gore Had stain’d its green, with foot-prints red. And the stag-hound, as the knight passed by, Sent forth a mournful fearful cry. XII.