The former he was glad to have, for the night had grown chilly; but the latter he sent away to Pierrot and Beaupré, bidding them eat and then go to rest, as he wanted nothing more. The old man, after reverent offers of service, put some fresh candles in the sconces and left him, assuring him that he should have had candlesticks,--fine silver flambeaux,--but that they had been taken away. Edward, left alone, began to pace up and down the room. He looked at the bed, which seemed comfortable enough, and thought of lying down; but he had no inclination to sleep. The chamber was a square room in an angle of the tower, one side looking to the south and the other to the east. The windows were without blinds or shutters. Edward advanced to one on the southern side, from which there was a view over a considerable part of the camp. The glow which had risen in that direction some hours before had considerably diminished: the watch-fires were dying out; the torches no longer moved about from place to place. He lifted his eyes to the sky, studded with stars, and saw a planet with a pure mild light moving upward untwinkling amongst the more steadfast watchers of the night. "Can there be any truth," he thought, "in those tales of the astrologers? Can the fate of many men, of many nations, depend upon the course of such a pale, silent orb as that?" And, turning to the table again, he sat down and let his thoughts run on in the new course they had assumed. Every thing grew more and more silent around. The village clock struck. He did not count its sounds, but he felt it must be near midnight. Who can tell what it is which, when alone and in silence, at that still spectral hour, seems to chill the warm blood of the heart, and fills the brain with ideas vague, and awful, and sublime,--with fancies gloomy, if not fearful? Edward sat thoughtfully for nearly half an hour longer. The fire had fallen low, and he rose and threw some more wood upon it; but it would not burn. He then rose and went to the other window, which looked eastward. The moon was just rising, and he could see over a wide extent of country, with the wood which he had passed on his way to Fontenay on the left of the picture, then half a mile or so of open sandy ground, then another wood to the right, and farther still, on the same side, but more distant, the spires and towers of some other little town. There was the haziness of moonlight over the whole scene; but the moon, though she was strong enough to cast long shadows from every elevated object, so flooded the whole scene with light that the more distant features were not distinct.