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Pulp Fiction, 1947 · page 67 of 132

Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 67: Pulp Fiction, 1947

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~ Se racks : td “a Ps Fis S45, ol. ke pratt: 7 te. “4 Ae HISTORICAL NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENT . ; a 4f hy ~~ Py Pry a an t: +» Co Sh ey : a he ‘ ee = ona fe : Ry Ri wa a CRE Lo oie? el Ge ON Pele : eg Veen) AAS iyi ‘i We here Bs Oe ee ea ee ve ran 53 tp ohh GRASSY ¢ Lar al he OR seg ee cans < om Pe ate ee LY F . * NM Fe re * Po oi ne i Ss > aS od uF Cy 7 Me o. ?> ~~ >ae ee - , ? ita Se . -. YA +t , : —e 2 Py\ 4 4 f pe tj Po # ‘ Yr time of waiting. They were housed in the monastery of Saint Peter, which had been converted as far as possible into a royal residence for the occasion. On the night of their arrival there the refectory of the monastery was transfigured to accommodate the numerous noble and very jovial . company assembled there to sup. The long, stone-flagged room, lofty and with windows set very high, normally so bare and austere, was hung now with tapestries, and the floor strewn with rushes that were mingled with lemon verbena and other aromatic herbs. Along the lateral walls and across the end of the room that faced the double doors were set the stone tables of the Spartan monks, on a shallow - dais that raised them above the level of the floor. These tables were gay now with the gleam of crystal and the glitter of gold and silver plate, Along one side of them, their backs to the walls, sat the ladies and nobles of the Court. The vaulted ceiling was rudely frescoed to represent the open heavens—the work of a brother whose brush was more devout than cunning—and there was the inevitable cenacolo above the Abbot’s table at the upper end of the room. At this table sat the royal. party, the broad-shouldered Andreas of Hungary, slightly asprawl, his golden mane somewhat tumbled now, for he was drinking deeply in accordance with his barbarian habit; _ | ever and anon he would fling down a bone or a piece of meat to the liver-coloured hounds that crouched expectant on the rushes of the floor. cui They had hunted that day in the neighborhood of Capua, and Andreas had acquitted himself well, and was in high good-humour, giving now little thought to the ‘sinister things that Charles of Durazzo had lately whispered, laughing and jesting with the traitor Morcone at his side. Behind him in close attendance stood his servant Pace, once a creature of Durazzo’s. The Queen sat on his right, mak- — ing but poor pretence to eat; her lovely young face was of a ghostly pallor, her dark eyes were wide and staring. Among the guests were the black-browed Evoli and his brother-in-law, Terlizzi; Bertrand of Artois and his father; Melazzo, that other creature of Charles’s, and Filippa the Catanese, handsome and arrogant, but oddly silent to-night. -Gomicbooks (EO)