I could have struck him in the face for this coarse familiarity; but I respected the truce, as, I am bound to say, did Northmour, and so long as the danger continued not a cloud arose in our relation. I bear him this testimony with the most unfeigned satisfaction; nor am I without pride when I look back upon my own behaviour. For surely no two men were ever left in a position so invidious and irritating. As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to inspect the lower floor. Window by window we tried the different supports, now and then making an inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer sounded with startling loudness through the house. I proposed, I remember, to make loop-holes; but he told me they were already made in the windows of the upper story. It was an anxious business this inspection, and left me down-hearted. There were two doors and five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only four of us to defend them against an unknown number of foes. I communicated my doubts to Northmour, who assured me, with unmoved composure, that he entirely shared them. “Before morning,” said he, “we shall all be butchered and buried in Graden Floe. For me, that is written.” I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but reminded Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood. “Do not flatter yourself,” said he. “Then you were not in the same boat with the old gentleman; now you are. It’s the floe for all of us, mark my words.” I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard calling us to come upstairs. Northmour showed me the way, and, when he had reached the landing, knocked at the door of what used to be called _My Uncle’s Bedroom_, as the founder of the pavilion had designed it especially for himself. “Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis,” said a voice from within.