Himself he stabled his horse; for of the two grooms he kept, one had by
his leave set out yesterday to spend Christmas in Devon with his
parents, the other had taken a chill and had been ordered to bed that
very day by Sir Oliver, who was considerate with those that served him.
In the dining-room he found supper spread, and a great log fire blazed
in the enormous cowled fire-place, diffusing a pleasant warmth through
the vast room and flickering ruddily upon the trophies of weapons that
adorned the walls, upon the tapestries and the portraits of dead
Tressilians. Hearing his step, old Nicholas entered bearing a great
candle-branch which he set upon the table.
"You'm late, Sir Oliver," said the servant, and Master Lionel bain't
home yet neither."
Sir Oliver grunted and scowled as he crunched a log and set it sizzling
under his wet heel. He thought of Malpas and cursed Lionel's folly, as,
without a word, he loosed his cloak and flung it on an oaken coffer by
the wall where already he had cast his hat. Then he sat down, and
Nicholas came forward to draw off his boots.
When that was done and the old servant stood up again, Sir Oliver
shortly bade him to serve supper.
"Master Lionel cannot be long now," said he. "And give me to drink,
Nick. 'Tis what I most require."
"I've brewed ee a posset o' canary sack," announced Nicholas; "there'm
no better supping o' a frosty winter's night, Sir Oliver.
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