When Gerault entered the courtyard a girl stood drawing water from the round, stone well. Two or three henchmen lolled in the doorway of the keep, chaffing a peasant who had come up the hill from one of the manor farms carrying eggs in a big basket. Just outside the stables, which occupied the whole east side of the courtyard, a boy stood rubbing down a sleek, white palfrey. All of these people respectfully saluted their lord, who returned them rather a curt recognition as he passed round the west tower on his way to a little narrow building just in front of the north gate, in which his falcons were housed through the winter. Gerault had a great passion for hawking, and his birds were always objects of solicitude with him. He and Courtoise, his squire, were accustomed to spend much time together in this little building, and in the open-air falconry on the terrace outside the north gate, where young birds or newly captured ones were trained. Just now Gerault stood in the doorway of the falcon-house, looking around him for Courtoise, whom he had thought to find within. He was speaking to the bird on his wrist, his mind still occupied with the recent talk with his mother, when, through the gate, came a burst of laughter and song, and he raised his eyes to see a giddy company swaying toward him in the measure of a “carole”[1] led by Courtoise and Laure’s foster-sister, Alixe la Rieuse. Moving a little out of their way he stood and watched the group go by,—the demoiselles and the squires of the Castle household, retained by his mother as company for herself, also to be trained in etiquette according to their several stations. And a pretty enough company of youth and gayety they were: Berthe, Yseult, Isabelle, Viviane, daughters all of noble houses; with Roland of St. Bertaux, Louis of Florence, Robert Meloc, and Guy d’Armenonville, called “le Trouvé.” But, of them all, Alixe, surnamed the Laughing One, was the brightest of eye, the warmest of color, and the lightest of foot. Footnote 1: A “carole” was originally a dance to which the dancers sang their own accompaniment. As they went by, Gerault signalled to his squire, Courtoise, and the young fellow would have disengaged himself immediately from his companions, but that Alixe suddenly broke her step, dropped the hand of Robert Meloc, who was behind her, and leaving the company, ran to Gerault’s side, dragging Courtoise with her. The dance ceased while the young people stood still, staring at their erstwhile leaders. Alixe, however, impatiently motioned them on. “Go back to the Castle with your ‘Roi qui ne ment pas.’[2] I will come soon.” Footnote 2: An old-time game. Obedient to her command, the little company resumed their quaint song, and, with steps that lagged a little, passed into the Castle, leaving their arbitrary leader behind them, with the Seigneur and his squire.