speak no more of battles, sieges, or feats of arms. Let us have a song, Amabel, and then all to bed."
Hugh of Cambray withdrew to where the men-at-arms were lodged, and the young girl sang to the music of a harp. The ballad she chose told of the joyful return of a crusader from the wars with the Saracens, and her three friends listened with pleasure to a song where the words were not drowned amid jangling notes, and where they told one of the romantic stories of which the annals of the times were full. Only the young esquire remained lost in his own thoughts, for he could not shake off the sense of responsibility his father's words had awakened in him. When the song was done, and the harp replaced in its leather case, the party separated, and soon after the castle was silent, except for the steps of a spearsman here and there upon some lonely turret.
After that evening nothing more was said upon the subject of a possible attack upon the stronghold, but the last day or two of the baron's stay was given to enjoyment of the home-life. The baron and his son went riding in the morning, and in the afternoon they sat in the courtyard watching the contests in wrestling, racing, or archery among the men-at-arms. The baron himself awarded the prizes, and never failed to say a word of kindly praise to the victors, or to encourage the
