“Madame la Châtelaine, give thee God’s greeting! I hight Bertrand Flammecœur, singer of Provence, the land of the trouvère; and now find myself a most weary traveller through this chilly land. Here—” indicating his follower with two slim fingers—“is my squire, Yvain. We come to-day from the Castle of Laval, in the South, where, in the high hospitality of its lord, we have sojourned for some weeks. There, indeed, I sang in half a score of tenzons with one Le Fleurie, an able singer. But now, to-night, inasmuch as we are weary with long riding, empty for food, numb with cold, and have found the drawbridge of this Castle down, we make bold to crave shelter for the night, and a manchet of bread to comfort our stomachs withal,” and the trouvère bent his body in a graceful obeisance; while Eleanore, smiling her hospitality, stepped forward a little from where she stood. “It is the Breton custom, Sir Trouvère, to leave the drawbridge down during the holy weeks of Christmas and Easter; and in those days any may obtain food and shelter among us. Thou and thy squire, however, are doubly welcome, coming as ye do from our cousins of Laval, in which house I, Eleanore du Crépuscule, was born. In the name of my son, the Seigneur Gerault, I return you God’s greeting, and pray you to make this Chateau your home. Now, sith ye are well weary and anhungered, let your boy rest him there among my squires, while you come here and sit and eat.” Thereupon little Yvain, after a bow, ran eagerly to the place indicated to him; and Flammecœur, smiling, went forward at madame’s invitation toward the place at her side. Ere he reached it, Alixe, who had been in the kitchens and thus missed the stranger’s entrance, came into the hall, bearing with her a wooden tray containing food and red wine. At sight of the stranger she halted suddenly, and as suddenly he paused to make her reverence; for by her dress he knew her to be no serving-wench. In the instant that their glances met, her green and brilliant eyes flashed a flame of fire into his dark ones; and curiously enough, a color rose in the pale cheeks of the man ere Alixe had thought to catch the flush of maiden modesty. Perhaps no one in the room had noted the contretemps. At any rate, Flammecœur, taking a quick glance to see, found none looking at him in more than ordinary curiosity; whereupon his debonair self-possession flew back to him, and, turning again to Madame Eleanore, he presently sat down to table and began his meal. While he ate, and his appetite was excellent, he found space to converse with every one about him; and had a smile for all, from madame to the shyest of the demoiselles. Out of courtesy for their hospitality, he gave a somewhat careless and rambling but nevertheless highly entertaining account of some of his wanderings, and was amused to see how the young demoiselles hung on his words. Only upon Alixe did he waste his efforts,