So there was. Vortigern perceived in the center of a cluster of centenarian chestnut trees a hut constructed of thick layers of peat heaped upon one another. A narrow opening gave entrance to the bower, before which the remnants of some dry wood recently lighted were still seen smouldering. "It is one of the huts in which the woodcutter slaves take refuge during the day when it rains," explained Thetralde. "We shall be then under cover. Tie thy horse to a tree and help me alight." At the bare thought of sharing the solitary retreat with the young girl, Vortigern felt his heart thump under his ribs. A flush of burning fever rose to his face while, nevertheless, he shivered. After a moment's hesitation, the lad complied with the orders of his companion. He tied his horse to a tree, and, in order to assist the young girl to alight from her mount, he extended to her his arms and received within them the supple and nimble body of Thetralde. So profound was the emotion experienced by Vortigern at the touch of the maid, that he was almost overcome. But the daughter of Charles, running towards the hut with pretty curiosity, cried out merrily: "I see a moss-bank in the hut and a supply of dry wood. Let's light a fire. There are still some embers burning. Hurry. Hurry." The lad hastened to join his companion and stumbled over a large log of wood that rolled at his feet. Stooping, he saw strewn about it a large number of burrs that had dropped down from the tall chestnut trees overhead. At once forgetting his embarrassment, he exclaimed with delight: "A discovery! Chestnuts! Chestnuts!" "What a find," responded Thetralde, no less delighted. "We shall roast the chestnuts. I shall pick them up while thou startest the fire." The young Breton did as suggested by his girl companion, all the more readily seeing that he hoped to find in the sport a refuge from the vague, tumultuous and ardent thoughts, big at once with delight and anxiety, that he had been a prey to from the moment of his meeting with Thetralde. He entered the hut, took up several bunches of dry wood and rekindled the brasier into flame, while the daughter of Charles, running hither and thither, gathered a large supply of chestnuts which she brought into the hut in a fold of her dress. Letting herself down upon the moss-bank that lay at the further end of the hut, the interior of which was now brightly lighted by the glare of the fire which burned near the entrance, she said to Vortigern, motioning him to a seat near her: "Sit down here, and help me shell these chestnuts." The lad sat down near Thetralde and entered with her into a contest of swiftness in the shelling of chestnuts, during which, like herself, he more than once pricked his fingers in the effort to extract the ripe kernels from their burrs. Presently, looking into her face, he said archly: