"And we?" Ewrag and his brother Rosneven cried in turn, "could not we also carry a stalk, six stalks, twenty stalks?"
"Oh! you are brave boys, my little ones," exclaimed Vortigern, embracing his children, while Morvan said to his wife:
"Noblede, do not forget to have the guest's chamber in order and supplied with food."
"Do you expect any guests, Morvan?" inquired Josseline, with great curiosity. "They will be welcome; they will assist us at the threshing to-night."
"My beloved Josseline," answered the Chief of the Chiefs, smiling, "the guests whom I expect eat the choicest of wheat, but never take the trouble of either sowing or harvesting. They belong to a class of people who live on the fat of the land."
"The guest's chamber is always ready," replied Noblede; "the floor is strewn with fresh leaves. Alack! No one occupied it since it was last occupied by Amael."
"Worthy grandfather!" exclaimed Vortigern with a sigh.
"He came to us only to languish a few weeks and pass away."
"May his memory be blessed, as was his life," said Josseline. "I knew him only a very short while, but I loved and venerated him like my father."
The family of Morvan, together with the rest of his tribe who cultivated his lands in common with himself, men, women and children, about thirty in all, presently sat down to a long table, placed in a large hall that served at once for kitchen, refectory and a place of assembly during the long nights of the winter. From the walls hung weapons of war and of the hunt, fishing nets, bridles and horse saddles. Although it was midsummer, such was the coolness of that region of woods and mountains, that the heat of the hearth, before which the meats for the supper were broiled, felt decidedly comfortable to the harvesters. Its flamboyant light mingled with that cast by the torches of resinous wood, that were fastened in iron clamps along the four walls. After the industrious group had finished their repast, Morvan was the first to rise.