They came up the path together, the big man crunching the mussel-shells beneath his sturdy tread, and so into the circle of yellow light that came down from the lantern among the apple-leaves, the big man with his arm around the quiet man’s shoulders, holding his hand; for the quiet man was not so large as the other, although withal no little man himself, and very well built and straight.

His tabard was black, without sleeves, and his doublet was scarlet silk.  His collar and wrist-bands were white Holland linen turned loosely back, and his face was frank and fair and free.  He was not old, but his hair was thin upon his brow.  His nose and his full, high forehead were as cleanly cut as a finely chiseled stone; and his sensitive mouth had a curve that was tender and sad, though he smiled all the while, a glimpse of his white teeth showing through, and his little mustache twitching with the ripple of his long upper lip.  His flowing hair was chestnut-colored, like his beard, and curly at the ends; and his melancholy eyelids told of study and of thought; but under them the kindly eyes were bright with pleasant fancy.

“What, there, all of you!” said he; “a good investment for your ears!”

“Out with it, Will!” they cried, and whirled around.

“The Queen hath made Lord Hunsdon chamberlain,” the big man said.

An instant’s hush fell on the garden.  No one spoke; but they caught each other by the hand, and, suddenly, the silence there seemed somehow louder than a shout.

“We’ll build the new Globe play-house, lads, and sweep the Bankside clean from end to end!” a sturdy voice broke sharply on the hush.  And then they cheered—­a cheer so loud that people on the river stopped their boats, and came ashore asking where the fire was.  And over all the cheering rose the big man’s voice; for the quiet man was silent, and the big man cheered for two.

“Pull up thy rose-bushes, Will,” cried one, “and set out laurels in their stead—­thou’lt need them all for crowns.”

“Ay, Will, our savor is not gone—­Queen Bess knows salt!”

“With Will and Ben for meat and crust, and the rest of us for seasoning, the court shall say it never ate such master pie!”

“We’ll make the walls of Whitehall ring come New Year next, or Twelfth Night and Shrove Tuesday.”

“Ay, that we will, old gossip!  Here’s to thee!”

“Here’s to the company, all of us!”

“And a health to the new Lord Chamberlain!”

“God save the Queen!”

With that, they shook each other’s hands, as merry as men could be, and laughed, because their hearts ran short of words; for these were young Lord Hunsdon’s men, late players to the Queen in the old Lord Chamberlain’s troupe; who, for a while deprived of favor by his death, were now, by this succession of his son, restored to prestige at the court, and such preferment as none beside them ever won, not even the Earl of Pembroke’s company.