Hyla passed slowly through the village. On the green, by a well which stood in the centre, a group of light-haired Saxon women were chattering over their household affairs. At the doors of some of the houses of the Norman men-at-arms sat French women on stools, rinsing pot herbs and scouring iron cooking bowls. Their black hair, prominent noses, and alert eyes contrasted favourably with the somewhat stupid faces of the Saxons, and there could be seen in them more than one sign of a conquering race. They were also more neatly dressed, and a coarse flax linen bound their temples in its whiteness, or lay about their throats. Stepping over a gutter full of evil-smelling refuse, Hyla came to the house of Pierce, and beat upon the wooden door, which hung upon hinges of leather made from bullock's hide. It swung open, and Adelais, the soldier's wife, named after the Duke of Brabant's daughter, stood upon the threshold obedient to the summons. She took the eels from him without a word, and began to unhook them. "Pierce said that I might have some fish to take home," Hyla told her humbly. "You may take your belly full," she answered; "it's little enough I like the river worms, for that is all they are. My man likes them as little as I." "It was he that sent me a-fishing," said Hyla in surprise. "Then he had a due reason," said the woman; "but get you home, the evening is spent, and the night comes." Just then, from the castle above their heads, which towered up into the still warm air, came the mellow sound of a horn, and following upon it the deep tolling of a bell ringing the curfew. Although the evening bell did not ring at that time with any legal significance as it did in towns, its sound was generally a signal for sleep; and as the brazen notes floated above them, the groups at the doors and on the green broke up and dispersed. "Sleep well, Hyla!" Adelais said kindly, and, retiring into the house, she shut her door. Hyla went on till he came opposite the great gate of the castle, and could hear the guards being changed on the other side of the drawbridge. He was now on the very brow of the hill, and, stopping for a moment, looked right down over the road he had traversed. The moon was just rising, and the road was all white in its light. Far beyond, the vast fens were a sea of white mist, and the blue will-o'-the-wisp was beginning to bob and pirouette among it. The air of the village was full of the sweet pungent smell of the blue wood smoke. The night was full of peace and sweetness, and, as the last throbbing note of the curfew bell died away, it would have been difficult to find a gentler, mellower place.