Now the night waxed late, the great wooden clock at the end of the hall had struck the hour for retiring, and sliced sweetcake and spiced ale were served round.
Then all the company, after the Norwegian fashion, bowed to each other, and saying, "Much good may the supper do you," prepared to separate. The Earl and Ormiston were conducted, by Sueno Throndson and two torchbearers, to a chamber in the upper part of the keep.
As Konrad turned to retire, he gave a wistful glance at Anna Rosenkrantz, to receive, as usual, her parting smile; but her eyes were fixed on Bothwell's retreating figure and waving plume, and slowly the young man left the hall, with a heart full of jealous and bitter thoughts.
CHAPTER V.
THE EARL AND HOB DISCOURSE.
'Tis well for you, Sir,
To make your love subservient to your pleasure;
But I, who am an honourable man,
Adore the sex too much to act so basely.
Old Play.
The Scottish guests were escorted by the chamberlain to an apartment in the donjon-tower, immediately above the hall.
It was arched with red sandstone, and, as frequently occurred in the sleeping chambers of such edifices in that age, contained two beds. These were low four-posted and heavily-canopied couches, covered with eider-down quilts of elaborate pattern; while the oak floor, according to the fashion of the country, was thickly strewn with small juniper branches, instead of straw, as in England. A dim cresset, on a long iron stalk, lighted the chamber, on beholding the primitive aspect of which the Earl and his friend exchanged significant glances; while Sueno, in courtesy to their rank, placed a handsome sword on a low tabourette that stood midway between the couches, and retired.
"'Tis a pretty knife this!" said Hob of Ormiston, as he drew the shining blade from its scabbard and surveyed it; "however, I would rather have this berry-brown whinger, that my father drew on Flodden Field," he added, unbuckling the broad baldrick that sustained his immense two-handed sword. "Doth he not seem an honest soul, this old Norwegian boor, I mean baron—craving pardon—and his dumpy little daughter?"
"Niece, thou meanest," said Bothwell suddenly, becoming all attention.