Pausing a moment on the threshhold Peregrine looked around. The hall was a riot of colour, a very feast for the sight. A huge place it was; the centre a great domed arch, golden and set on four columns of black marble. The walls were hung with tapestries orange and yellow, bordered with blue and purple most deftly intermingled. So remote were the tapestries that the figures at the table appeared backgrounded against sunlight above deep waters. Around were marble statues, works of the world in the morning of time. Here was Hebe young and slender; Mercury wing-footed; Atalanta poised swift to run; Faunus half man half goat; Bacchus vine-wreathed; Apollo, Athene, Venus,—all were there wrought of voluptuous fancy. Here and there gleamed silver nymphs and dryads, flashing to seeming life in the red light of the fire which blazed at the further end of the great hall. Green marble made the floor, spread with rugs an harmonious blend of colour. Beneath the golden dome was set the board, and here was movement, life, and laughter. As Peregrine stood in the doorway with Phrixus beside him, those opposite it looked up and saw him, the others turned. “Welcome the new-comer!” The cry rang through the hall, losing itself in echoes in the golden dome. None could mistake the genuine ring of it. Peregrine was led forward; kneeling he kissed the hand Thaïs gave him. “We bid you welcome, Sir,” she said very graciously. And she gave him a place on her right. “Will you not lay aside your cloak?” The request very delicately toned yet held a faint air of command. Willy-nilly Peregrine slipped it from his shoulders. “Ha!” laughed Phrixus, “you are Jester. So I might have guessed. Truly being so you are doubly welcome. Is it not so, friends?” Again a cry rang loud. “Welcome the Jester!” “An’ I were not very sure I were waking I should hold myself dreaming,” mused Peregrine inwardly. Fate to his mind played pretty pranks with a man’s life, tossed it shuttlecock-like from depths to heights, threw it from fair earth to stony ground, and then again to very flowery beds. Here at least was one sufficiently pleasing for the moment. Truly he would take no thought for the morrow, but enjoy the hour to its full. An honoured guest he sat there, satisfying his appetite very fully from silver dishes served to him by pages in white and gold. The meal ended the board was cleared. It and the trestles on which it lay were carried away by serving men, rugs rolled aside. At the end of the hall, somewhat near the great fireplace, was a raised dais. Here the ivory chair was placed. Thaïs seated in it the company disposed themselves around her according to will. Peregrine lay at her feet on sapphire blue cushions soft as eiderdown. Very content with the present he waited for the next move.