There was a sudden rustling of the grass under the tree, a low whimpering, and a wet nose thrust itself against Bertrand’s hand. Then a pair of paws hooked themselves upon his knee, and a cold snout made a loving dab at the lad’s mouth.
“Why, Jake—old dame!”
The dog whimpered and shot out her tongue towards Bertrand’s cheek.
“Jake, old lady, they have all forgotten me, save you.”
He fondled the dog, his great brown hands pulling her ears with a tenderness that seemed strange in one so strong and ugly. He laid his cheek against Jake’s head, and let her lick his neck and ear, for it was sweet to be remembered—even by a dog.
“Well, old lady, have you had your supper? What, not a bone! By St. Ives! we will go in, in spite of them, and sup together by the fire.”
He rose, and the dog sprang away as though welcoming the decision, and played round him, barking, as he crossed the garden towards the court.
When Bertrand entered the hall with Dame Jake at his heels the grooms and underlings were taking their places at the trestled tables. The walls were bare, save behind the dais, where crimson hangings hung like a mimic sunset under the deep shadows of the roof. The fire was not built on a hearth in the centre of the floor, but under a great hooded chimney in the wall midway between the high table and the screens. There was no napery on the lower boards, and the servant folk used thick slices of brown bread in place of platters.
Bertrand cast a quick and jealous glance at the high table, and then went and sat himself on a stool before the fire. The logs were burning brightly on the irons, licking a great black pot that hung from the jack. Neither Dame Jeanne nor her husband had seen Bertrand enter. They were very gay and merry on the dais, the Vicomte between Sieur Robert and his wife, Olivier feeding little Robin with comfits and sugar-plums, and Tiphaïne, the child, sitting silent beside Dame Jeanne, with her eyes wandering about the hall.
Bertrand felt some one nudge his shoulder. It was old Hoel, the gate-keeper, his red face shining in the firelight under a fringe of curly hair. He held a tankard in one hand and half a chicken and a hunch of bread on a hollywood platter in the other.