Having dressed and washed, the baron goes down to mass at the chapel. Attending daily mass is a duty for every really pious seigneur. One of Garnier's infamies had been his gross irregularity in this matter. If there had been no chapel in the bailey, the service could have been held in a vestibule to the hall of the _palais_. After mass is over, Conon is ready for business or pleasures. It is a time of peace; and, truth to tell, the baron would really be not a little glad of the excitement, bustle, and strenuous preparation which come with the outbreak of war. The list of things he can do to divert himself in times of public quiet seems limited: He can hunt, fish, fence, joust, play chess, eat and drink, listen to the songs of the jongleurs, hold his court, walk in the meadows, talk with the ladies, warm himself, have himself cupped and bled, and watch the snow fall. This last amusement is hardly practicable in June. Being bled is not commonly reckoned a regular sport in other ages! Neither can he hold court--receive his vassals and dispense justice--save at intervals. The jongleurs ordinarily reserve themselves for the evenings. Conon's secret hankering for a war is, therefore, somewhat explicable. If this is a fortunate day, however, the horn on the turret will blow, and then the gong at the bailey gate will reverberate. A visitor of noble rank has arrived. Nothing can ordinarily be more welcome in castle communities. Little isolated fractions of humanity as they are, with the remainder of the world seemingly at an extreme distance, the coming of a stranger means a chance to hear news of the king's court, of the doings of the Emperor Frederick II, of the chances of another crusade, of the latest fashions in armor, of the newest methods of training hawks, nay, possibly of rumors of another brave war like that which culminated in the glorious battle of Bouvines. Unknightly, indeed, is the seigneur who does not offer profuse hospitality to a noble visitor; and any priest, monk, or law-abiding merchant will be given a decent, though less ceremonious, welcome. No wonder the inns everywhere are so bad, when the lords of so many castles grow actually angry if a traveler will not tarry perhaps for days. [Sidenote: Hospitality to Guests]