“Dost thou see yonder group?” demanded the Earl of Moray as he pointed them out to Sir Patrick. “The elderly knight and dame are William de Vaux, Lord of Dirleton, and his lady. The fair damosel seated behind them is their daughter, the Lady Jane de Vaux, held to be the loveliest of all the maidens who have come to honour this our tournament. Nay, she is indeed esteemed one of the fairest pearls of the Scottish Court, and a rich pearl she is, moreover, seeing she is the heiress of her father’s domains. The knight who lieth at her footstool, and sigheth enlangoured at her feet, effunding soft speeches from his heart, and gazing upwards with a species of adoration in his eyes, is the gallant Sir John Halyburton, who wears her favours, and bears her proud merits in high defiance on his lance’s point.”
“Let me entreat your Lordship, who are those knights who come yonder so bravely arrayed?” said Hepborne.
“Those,” replied the Earl, “are the English knights who lately came on ambassage. He in the purple velvet is the Lord Welles; that elder knight on his right hand, who showeth deportment so courteous, is the worthy Sir John Constable of Halsham and Burton, one who hath done good deeds of arms in his day; he that is so flauntingly attired in the peach-blossom surcoat so richly emblazoned, is the gay Sir Piers Courtenay; and immediately behind him is the stark Sir Thomas Fairfax of Walton. But stay, here comes my brother George, Earl of Dunbar and March. George,” cried he, addressing his brother as he passed, “this is Sir Patrick Hepborne, whose father thou well knowest.”
“I do,” said the Earl of Dunbar, energetically squeezing Hepborne’s hand, “and I shall not fail to receive the son of my dearest friend into my warmest affections for his father’s sake. How left ye thy gallant sire?”
This question was but the preliminary to a long and friendly conversation between Hepborne and the Earl of Dunbar, which lasted until it was interrupted by a flourish of trumpets and clarions, announcing the entrance of the Grand Sewer, with a white wand in his hand. He advanced at the head of a perfect army of lacqueys, who brought in the feast, and the company began to be marshalled to their places by the pursuivants. [[267]]
CHAPTER XXXVII.
The Banquet at the Castle—Alarm—Forres on Fire.
The banquet given daily by the noble Earl of Moray was in every respect befitting the rank and splendour of the company assembled to partake of it. On the raised platform, at the upper end of the hall of Randolph, a table was placed transversely, to which was attached, at right angles, a limb that stretched down the greater part of the pavement. One side only of the upper, or cross table, was occupied; and opposite to the centre of it were seated the Earl and Countess of Moray, in full view of all their guests. With them sat the Earl of Fife, and all those who could boast of royal blood or alliance; whilst both sides of the long table were filled up by the rest of the nobles, and knights, and ladies, who were marshalled according to their respective rank. The shield of each chevalier, with his coat armour emblazoned on it, was hung on a hook on the wall, opposite to the place occupied by him at table; so that all might be known by their bearings.
Hepborne having been introduced to the party of William de Vaux, Lord of Dirleton, led off his lady to the festive board.