Master Greville knowing full well the futility of contradicting his charge when she was in such a wilful mood said no more, but meekly followed her as she started once more on her way. Through the great doors, which were of weathered oak thickly studded with nails, over which hung the family coat of arms, a shield, azure, three quatrefoils, argent, the girl and the old man passed across the paved courtyard, up a flight of steps to the terrace which led to the porch and from thence to the ante-hall passage. Serving men clothed in blue with the family arms upon the left sleeve, and retainers clothed also in blue but without the heraldic device thronged courtyard, terrace and hall. Francis hastened through the ante-hall passage to the great hall which lay beyond. The floors were freshly strewn with rushes, the walls were hung with rich tapestries representing stories from the classics. The upper end contained an oriel window under which was a fringed dais. On one side of the apartment was a huge fireplace over which the ancestral arms hung with the arms of England over them. On the other side towered lofty windows. A screen gallery, an organ and a high table completed the hall which was the principal room of the castle and the place where all of the feasts, mummeries and masques were held. Ushers were hurrying through the great hall for it was "covering time," and the household was mustering for the midday meal. Francis threaded her way through the crowd of yeomen to the door of the presence chamber, and drawing aside the arras that hid the entrance, opened it and entered. "My father," she began abruptly, and then paused for she saw that her father was not alone. "Is it you, my daughter?" Lord Stafford rose to meet her. The resemblance between them was very striking. "I had just asked for you. This is my child, Fortescue. She of whom we were speaking. Give greeting, Francis, to my good friend Captain Fortescue." Francis gave a quick glance at her father's guest. He was a man of commanding stature, with black hair and keen black eyes that held a cruel light in them. He was arrayed in a blue velvet jerkin with hose of the same material. A large beaver hat with a long feather in it lay on the table. A rapier depending from his belt completed his attire which was that of a soldier. Without heeding this fact something in his bearing caused the girl to address him as a priest. "I give thee welcome, good father." "Said I not that the wench was shrewd?" asked Lord Stafford with a hearty laugh. "Ay, my lord; and 'twas well said," returned the guest. "My child, do you not see that I am attired as a soldier?" "I crave forbearance," faltered Francis in some confusion. "I did not notice thy dress, but judged from thy manner. Nathless, priest or soldier, I give thee greeting. Prithee heed not mine error."