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Updated: May 14, 2025
The flames of the great logs would suffer no rival illuminations; if the trunks of full-grown trees could not suffice to light up an old room, with low-raftered ceilings, and a mass of bric-a- brac, what could a few thin waxen candles hope to do? On many other occasions we had thought our marvellous sitting-room had had exceptional moments of beauty.
There was a glimpse of the village at its supper in low-raftered interiors a group of blouses and women in fishermen's rig were gathered about narrow tables, the coarse-featured faces and the seamed foreheads lit up by the feeble flame of candles that ended in long, thin lines of smoke. "Ohe Mere Mouchard! des voyageurs!" cried forth our coachman into the darkness.
Looking closer about the room, the low-raftered ceilings of an older time brought another thought to his mind.
An hour later, Gillian, having dispatched her small son to bed and seen him safely tucked up between the lavender-scented sheets, discovered Magda alone in the low-raftered sitting-room. She was lying back idly in a chair, her hands resting on the arms, in her eyes a curious abstracted look as though she were communing with herself.
The viands were heavy: so were the faces of the labourers, and the air of the low-raftered kitchen, heated as it was by a huge fire, and pervaded by the smell from the farmyard. Laura felt it all very strange, the presence of the farm servants at the same table with the Masons and herself the long silences that no one made an effort to break the relations between Hubert and his mother.
The room into which the elevator entered was large, low-raftered and lighted by a group of candles at the far end. In the centre was a black table, and about the table thirteen chairs also black. The one at the head was occupied by a figure garbed in a cloak and hood, with a black mask drawn down to the lips. The other chairs were empty.
"Will you come in? The man will see to your luggage." June was speaking again, still shyly but with her shyness tempered by a sensitive instinct of hospitality. She led the way into the house and they followed her through a big, low-raftered living-room and up a flight of slippery oak stairs. "These are your rooms," said June, pausing at last at the end of a rambling passage-way.
Silence reigned in the low-raftered room on the ground floor of the house in the Rue Dauphine. Citizen Robespierre, chairman of the Cordeliers Club, the most bloodthirsty, most Evolutionary club of France, had just re-entered the room. He walked up to the centre table, and through the close atmosphere, thick with tobacco smoke, he looked round on his assembled friends.
Then she had a great feast made in honor of the heroes, and the long, low-raftered feast-hall rang with the sounds of merriment, instead of with the clash of arms. The fair-haired, blue-eyed warriors of the queen sat side by side with the tall strangers from over the sea.
The rain had ceased, and the old, low-raftered room was full of sunshine which danced on the shining dishes of the dresser, made mosaics on the floor, and flickered over the table whereon a delicious meal was spread. Felicity had put on her blue muslin, and looked so beautiful in it that her good humour was quite restored.
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