"True, good Wilkin," said Eveline; "and do you therefore take some rest, and trust to my watchfulness, at least till the guards are relieved. I cannot sleep if I would, and I would not if I could." "Thanks, lady," said Flammock; "and in truth, as this is a centrical place, and the rounds must pass in an hour at farthest, I will e'en close my eyes for such a space, for the lids feel as heavy as flood-gates." "Oh, father, father!" exclaimed Rose, alive to her sire's unceremonious neglect of decorum--"think where you are, and in whose presence!" "Ay, ay, good Flammock," said the monk, "remember the presence of a noble Norman maiden is no place for folding of cloaks and donning of night-caps." "Let him alone, father," said Eveline, who in another moment might have smiled at the readiness with which Wilkin Flammock folded himself in his huge cloak, extended his substantial form on the stone bench, and gave the most decided tokens of profound repose, long ere the monk had done speaking.--"Forms and fashions of respect," she continued, "are for times of ease and nicety;--when in danger, the soldier's bedchamber is wherever he can find leisure for an hour's sleep--his eating-hall, wherever he can obtain food. Sit thou down by Rose and me, good father, and tell us of some holy lesson which may pass away these hours of weariness and calamity." The father obeyed; but however willing to afford consolation, his ingenuity and theological skill suggested nothing better than a recitation of the penitentiary psalms, in which task he continued until fatigue became too powerful for him also, when he committed the same breach of decorum for which he had upbraided Wilkin Flammock, and fell fast asleep in the midst of his devotions. CHAPTER THE NINTH "Oh, night of wo," she said, and wept, "Oh, night foreboding sorrow! "Oh, night of wo," she said and wept, "But more I dread the morrow!" SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.