“Nay, I have not forgotten; nor has anyone in the Castle. But thou, Gerault, must forget. It is now five years since, and thou art more than come to man’s estate. Even then thou wast not young.—Nay, Gerault, I do not forget that cruel thing. Yet we must all go.—And ere I die I must see thee wed. ’Tis not only for myself, child. It is for the house, and the line of Crépuscule. Shall it be lost in four generations?” Frowning, Gerault rose. “Well, madame, not as yet have I seen in Brittany the maid that I would wed, barring always—” He shook himself to dissipate the memory that was on him. “To-morrow I and Courtoise ride forth to Rennes. Let me now leave thee once more to thy meditations.” Gerault went to the door, opened it, turned to look once at his mother, whose face he could not see, and then, with an audible sigh, went quietly away. Each was ignorant of the other’s feelings. As Eleanore moved over toward the open windows that looked off upon the sea, her eyes, tear-blinded, saw nothing of the broad plain of blue and sparkling gold that stretched infinitely away before her. Nor did she dream of the spirit of reawakened bitterness and desolation that her words had conjured up in Gerault’s heart. But the Seigneur’s calm and unruffled expression concealed a very storm of reawakened misery as he descended the great stone staircase of the Castle, passed through the empty lower hall, and so out into the courtyard. This courtyard was always the liveliest spot about the chateau. Le Crépuscule itself was very large, and its adjacent buildings were on a corresponding scale. Like all the feudal fortress-castles of its time, it was almost a little city in itself. It dated from the year 1203, and had been built by the first lord of the name, Bernard, a left-handed scion of Coucy, who had been called Crépuscule from his colors, two contrasting shades of gray. Since his time, each of its lords had added to its strength or its convenience, till now, in the year 1380, it was the strongest chateau on the South Breton coast. One side was built on the very edge of an immense cliff against which the Atlantic surf had beaten unceasingly through the ages. The other three sides were well protected, first by a heavy wall that surrounded the whole courtyard with its various buildings, beyond which came a broad strip of garden land and pasturage, bounded on the far side by the second, or lower wall, and a dry moat. The keep was of a size proportionate to the Castle; and the number of men-at-arms that were kept in it taxed the coffers of the rather meagre estate to the utmost for food and pay.