They entered presently--ten of them there were--mumbling, whispering, shaking their powdered heads in a kind of unison, till the white dust sifted upon the floor like particles of glittering snow. Standing somberly in line behind a long table, awaiting turns to set their names beneath Sir Richard's, they reminded him of a row of solemn, nodding jackdaws. Not being in a position to appreciate its gravity, the scene amused rather than awed the young knight. Not in the remotest degree did he surmise that he was henceforth to be but a wooden image--a carved knight, if we may be allowed the simile--progressing obediently from square to square over the checkered board of a complex conspiracy whenever they extended their lean fingers to make the move. "Remain," Lord Douglas said, when the last of them had written his name beneath the young knight's. "Await my return and we'll hold further council here," whereupon he took Sir Richard's arm, expressing his intention of presenting him to the lady of the castle. "Now that I have delivered the King's message, my lord," said the young knight as they were passing along the gallery and down the stairs, "it is my desire to be soon upon my way. On the morrow, an there be nothing further here for me to do, I shall fare southward toward Kenilworth." "Tut, tut! Sir Richard. Be not in such haste to bid us adieux. We are a right merry throng here in Castle Yewe, and thou canst pass thy hours with us full pleasantly. Thy errand, besides, is not yet done. 'Tis thy sovereign's wish that thou shalt bide in Scotland yet awhile as my guest. But yonder is Lady Douglas, to whom I shall surrender thee for the present." After introducing the young knight, Douglas begged the privilege of talking a moment with his wife in private. A page led Sir Richard to a seat within an alcove of the hall, where he remained, looking out of a window at a company of infantry drilling in the castle yard till Lord and Lady Douglas had finished their rather lengthy discourse. "I'll see thee at the wassail board this evening, Sir Richard," said Douglas, who had accompanied his wife as far as the curtained entrance to the alcove. "Thou art indeed happily come. To-day is the twenty-fifth of the month--the feast of Crispian will be spread in the state hall. I have made thy squire comfortable in my retainer's quarters," he added, and then retired to his room above where the jackdaws were awaiting to hold their council. CHAPTER XIII OF THE INCIDENT OF THE COBBLER'S FEAST "Noble gentlemen," said Douglas when he had returned into his room, "I am here confronted by a problem that I would fain crave thy learned assistance in solving. MacGregor," he added, handing Henry's warrant to the lean scrivener, "recite to us the contents of this parchment."