Pike had not yet appeared in our
waters--they were a later importation--and other fish were more
plentiful in consequence.
Then the pastry--the castles in pie crust, with fruity warriors to
man their battlements--how should aught but cook describe them
properly?
For awhile there was no conversation, save an occasional
interjectional exclamation--"How good this fish!" "How tender this
fowl!" Wines of Gascony and Burgundy were circulating freely, and
were as usual brightening the eyes, quickening the tongue, and
stimulating the palate.
But when appetite was satisfied, then began the buzz of
conversation to arise, then the gleemen tuned their harps to sing
the praises of Norman warriors; nor did the toasts linger, nor was
the drinking of many healths absent.
Amongst the singers--men of many songs--those of wealth and rank
occasionally took turn; but there was no brighter voice or sweeter
song than that of Louis de Marmontier, the third of our trio of
pages. He had distinguished himself that day in the lists,
following closely in the steps of Etienne, and now he seemed likely
to win the prize for minstrelsy, as he sang the song of Rollo,
accompanying himself with thrilling chords on the harp, whose
strings had never uttered sweeter notes.
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