Bearing a rush-light, the hunchback led Sir Richard up a narrow stairway to a room immediately above the one he had just quitted. Bidding his sour visaged guide to set the basin, in which burned the rush-light, in the center of the floor, he bespoke for him a peaceful rest and dismissed him from his chamber. Zenas, answering never a word, backed toward the door. Then, from its threshold, he dropped a curtsey that would have made a fitting obeisance to a monarch, after which he silently took himself off. The room in which the young knight now found himself was of an ample size, but exceedingly raw and cold, as no fire burned within the deep-throated chimney. The four walls were roughly coated with mortar. The rafters overhead were bare. In the gloom of the space between the steep gabled roof and the skeleton beams he could hear the occasional whirring of a bat's wings, as it darted hither and thither across the room. He lost precious little time in speculating upon his surroundings and, quickly removing his steel gear, sought the comforts of the bed, which he discovered, with much inward gratification, to be of a good and easeful kind. A few vagrant thoughts, some of them being of the wild tales he had heard of the tavern wherein he was now tarrying, flitted vaguely across his mind. Then, very soon after laying his head against the pillow, he sank into the blissful unconsciousness of sleep. CHAPTER V THE INCIDENT OF THE CUTTING OF SAFFRON VELVET The walls of the room adjoining that in which Sir Richard was now sleeping framed a scene that provided a singular and pleasing contrast to the bleak and uninviting rooms within the tavern with which the reader is already somewhat familiar. So beautifully, and in such exquisite taste were its rich trappings disposed, that a princess might have found comfort and contentment within its cosy precincts. Indeed, not anything seemed to be missing that could have been demanded in the surroundings of the most refined and fastidious of royal personages. Upon one of the pillowed couches two young maidens were reclining gracefully at their ease. One was lying at full length and resting upon her elbows, with her chin pressed against her interlocked fingers; the other was engaged with needles and some bright colored silk in weaving a design upon a piece of linen cloth. Without risking hyperbole it may be said of them that the jewels they wore were scarce an adornment to their distinguished setting, for it would have offered a difficult task to have set out to discover two lovelier types of young womanhood. It was unusual in that between them there existed no conflict of beauty; rather did the bewitching charms of the one serve the complimentary purpose of enhancing the pure and almost ethereal comeliness of the other.