He was a tall and noble-featured man, with long
grizzled beard which rippled down to the gold-linked belt girdling
his many-colored tabard. On his head he had placed the heraldic
barret-cap which bespoke his dignity, and he slowly raised his
white wand high in the air, while a great hush fell upon the hall.
"My lords of England," said he, "knight bannerets, knights,
squires, and all others here present of gentle birth and
coat-armor, know that your dread and sovereign lord, Edward, King
of England and of France, bids me give you greeting and commands
you to come hither that he may have speech with you."
In an instant the tables were deserted and the whole company had
clustered in front of the King's chair. Those who had sat on
either side of him crowded inward so that his tall dark figure
upreared itself amid the dense circle of his guests.
With a flush upon his olive cheeks and with pride smoldering in
his dark eyes, he looked round him at the eager faces of the men
who had been his comrades from Sluys and Cadsand to Crecy and
Calais. They caught fire from that warlike gleam in his masterful
gaze, and a sudden wild, fierce shout pealed up to the vaulted
ceiling, a soldierly thanks for what was passed and a promise for
what was to come. The King's teeth gleamed in a quick smile, and
his large white hand played with the jeweled dagger in his belt.
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