The wintry day wore onward; and, wintry though it was, save for a touch of keenness in the frosty air, and for the leafless aspect of the country, it might have passed for a more lightsome season; the sky was pure and cloudless as were the prospects and the hopes of the gay throng who now embarked secure and confident beneath its favorable omens. The sun shone gayly as in the height of summer, and the blue waves lay sleeping in its lustre as quietly as though they ne’er had howled despair into the ears of drowning wretches! There was no thought of peril or of fear--how should there be? The ships were trustworthy; the seamen skilful, numerous, and hardy; the breezes fair, though faint; the voyage brief; the time propitious. The day wore onward; and it was high noon before the happy king--his every wish accomplished, secure as he conceived himself, and firm in the fruition of his blood-bought majesty--rowed with his glittering train on board the royal galley. Loud pealed the cheering clamors of his Norman subjects, bidding their sovereign hail; but louder yet they pealed, when, with its freight of ladies, the second barge shot forth--William and his fair sister, and yet fairer bride, and all the loveliest of the dames that graced the broad Cotentin. Not yet, however, were the anchors weighed--not yet were the sails sheeted home; for on the deck of the king’s vessel, beneath an awning of pure cloth-of-gold, a gorgeous board was spread. Not in the regal hall of Westminster could more of luxury have been brought together than was displayed upon that galley’s poop. Spread with the softest ermine--meet carpet for the gentle feet that trod it--cushioned with seats of velvet, steaming with perfumes the most costly, it was a scene resembling more some fairy palace than the wave-beaten fabric that had braved many a gale, and borne the flag of England through many a storm in triumph. And there they sat and feasted, and the red wine-cup circled freely, and the song went round: their hearts were high and happy, and they forgot the lapse of hours; and still the reveller’s shout was frequent on the breeze, and still the melody of female tones, blent with the clang of instrumental music, rang in the ears of those who loitered on the shore, after the sun had bathed his lower limb in the serene and peaceful waters.