196 MASTER SKYLARK

The windows were all curtained in, making a night-time
in midday; and from the walls and galleries flaring links
and great bouquets of candles threw an eddying flood of
yellow light across the stirring scene. From clump to
clump of banner-staves and burnished arms, spiked above
the wainscot, garlands of red-berried holly, spruce, and
mistletoe were twined across the tapestry, till all the room
was bound about with a chain of living green.

There were sweet odors floating through the air, and
hazy threads of fragrant smoke from perfumes burning
in rich braziers ; and under foot was the crisp, clean rustle
of new rushes.

From time to time, above the hum of voices, came the
sound of music from a room beyond—cornets and flutes,
fifes, lutes, and harps, with an organ exquisitely played,
and voices singing to it; and from behind the players’
curtain, swaying slowly on its rings at the back of the
stage, came a murmur of whispering childish voices, now
high in eager questioning, now low, rehearsing some
doubtful fragment of a song.

Behind the curtain it was dark—not total darkness, but
twilight; for a dull glow came down overhead from the
lights in the hall without, and faint yellow bars went up
and down the dusk from crevices in the screen. The boys
stood here and there in nervous groups. Now and then
a sharp complaint was heard from the tire-woman when
an impatient lad would not stand still to be dressed.

Master Gyles went to and fro, twisting the manuscript
of the Revel in his hands, or pausing kindly to pat some