six in the evening
Troop after troop , the wearied and dispirited Normans returned from their fruitless chase , till all were safely housed , save one unhappy band . First came the wicked old baron himself , with all his twenty retainers , safe and sound , then Bernard de Torci , who had won to himself an English wife and the manor of Wylmcotte ; then Gilbert D'Aubyn of Bearleigh . One after another the troops came in from the outer darkness , white with snow , and shook their mantles and jerkins in the guard chamber within the entrance archway , after which their leaders repaired to the bathroom -- for , in their way , the Norman warriors were luxurious -- and afterwards , perfumed and anointed , donned the festal robes in which they hoped to dazzle the eyes of the fair , if such were to be found in the Castle of Aescendune . The hour appointed for the banquet was the first hour of the night -- six in the evening we should now call it -- and the Majordomo sought his lord . He found him risen from the bath and vested in flowing robes of richest texture , with an ermine mantle around his shoulders . `` The banquet is ready , my lord , but the guests have not all arrived . '' `` Has my son returned ? ''