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The crisis was over. Not a word had been spoken. Galen Albret sat in his rough-hewn arm-chair at the head of the table, receiving the reports of his captains. The long, narrow room opened before him, heavy raftered, massive, white, with a cavernous fireplace at either end.
Her passion, her terror, at the spectre which fancy thus evoked, seized and overcame her; and ere the last hurrah sent its hollow echo to the raftered roof, she sank from her chair to the ground, hueless and insensible as the dead.
She was sorry because he had a cold and was not taking care of it.... Now they were climbing a sombre creaking staircase towards a new and remote world that was separated from the common world just quitted by the adventurous passage of the rainy yard.... And now they were amid oily odours in a large raftered workshop, full of machines.... The printing-works!... An enormous but very deferential man saluted them with majestic solemnity.
She leant far out of the window, breathing in the tonic smell of the oak leaves on the grass beneath her, and the freshness of the mountain air. Then, as she turned back to the white-walled raftered room with its bright fire, she was seized with the pleasantness of this place which was now her home. Insensibly it had captured her heart, and her senses.
A hammock is slung to the rough raftered roof of the main room, as an extra bed. A man, completely hidden by his bedclothes, is sleeping in the hammock. By the fireside there is a second man supposed to be on the watch fast asleep, poor wretch! at the present moment. Behind the sleeper stands an old cask, which serves for a table.
The effect is delightfully harmonious and artistic and quite Japanese in feeling. In such a cottage, the living-room has a raftered ceiling, the sidewalls, woodwork, settles by the fireplaces, open bookcases and floor, are all stained dark walnut.
"Well, there's no garret like ours, but there is a little raftered room with a slanting ceiling and little windows and I intend to put trunks and boxes in it and take my spinning-wheel that Granny gave me and put it there." "A spinning-wheel! What under the sun will you do with that?" "Look at it," was the strange reply, at which Millie shook her head and went off to her work.
But he could not flatter himself that she was in the least occupied with what he wished. Her attention was all given to her surroundings to the old raftered room, with its glowing fire and deep-set windows. Bright as the April sun was outside, it hardly penetrated here.
Beyond the door lay a raftered garret half filled with cast-off house lumber and lighted and aired by two high roof windows. Into this she led me, with a finger on her lip for silence. A hum of voices, the clinking of glass, and now and again a hearty soldier laugh told me that my garret was above some living-room of the house.
Jellyband did as he was bid he turned out the quaint old lamp that hung from the raftered ceiling and blew out all the candles. "Let's have a bottle of wine, Jelly," suggested Sir Andrew. "Al ri', sir!" Jellyband went off to fetch the wine. The room now was quite dark, save for the circle of ruddy and fitful light formed by the brightly blazing logs in the hearth.
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