But Gervase paid very little attention to his speech. The presence of Dorothy and the look she had given him at parting, so rapid but at the same time so complete in perfect confidence, had filled him with happiness, and given him food for contemplation. The old stories that he had read of wandering knights and heroic paladins had come to be fulfilled for him; he had found a cause in which to use his sword, and a lady who was worthy of his devotion; and so a golden vista of great deeds opened out before him, and he saw glory and love at the end of it. We will not quarrel with the young fellow´s idle fancies, but leave him with the girl´s last words----"You have proved yourself my friend," keeping him awake that night and mingling with the substance of his dreams. CHAPTER X. OF THE STAND IN THE TRENCHES. “What is the hour?” “Somewhat after three. The bell in the Cathedral struck the hour as we left the gate. ´Tis very dark.” "And colder than frost. The wind blows from the river like a stepmother´s breath, and dries the very marrow in your bones. On my word, Orme, I thought the relief would never come. Here have I been since the last night, getting what warmth I could from the shelter of the rampart, and keeping these fellows from sleeping on guard, while my own eyes rebelled against this sentry duty and closed in spite of me. I´m sleepy, and hungry, and tired, and am going to take a lesson in swearing from wicked Will Talbot: “Oh, roll me down the brae and walk me up the hill, And all the while you carry me, I´m only standing still.” “´Tis well to have a merry heart, Jack.” “And, prithee, why should I not be merry if I choose? Who could be sad with six hours of guard in the twenty-four; a measurable quantity of meat and French butter, with a qualified modicum of very thin beer, and a chance of getting knocked on the head every hour in the day. Is not that enough for one man, my dear Ajax, or will nothing satisfy you? Here we have been for a fortnight at this work, and only twice have we measured swords with the red-coated ruffians yonder, who prefer to bowl us over with their long guns and bury us in the mortar yonder. This soldiering is but dull work.” “We are like to find it brisk enough if all that I hear is true. There is talk in the camp yonder of a general onset on our position here at the Windmill, and when I left, Baker was sending a reinforcement to strengthen the guard. Have you heard aught in front?” “Not a mouse stirring. Did I think it true, I should even snatch what sleep I could in the earthworks here, and be ready to stand by you when the knocks were going. But following the voice of wisdom for once, I´ll even go home to bed and leave you to enjoy that frosty wind by yourself. Should the attack come you´ll find me among the first.”