“You have struck the mark for me and saved my credit,” cried Simon joyfully. “Twill be hard work but there is no help for it. And you will lend me your countenance as far as your conscience will let you?” “Nay,” said Gervase, “I cannot be a partner in your fraud, but no man will know from me that you are not as stout as Murray himself, and that you have not got a wound as deep as the well of St. Colomb. I can go no further than that. Now, Simon, away to bed, for Mistress Sproule must not find the wounded knight keeping his vigil here.” “Remember, Mr. Orme, I rely on your discretion,” cried Simon, halting for a moment at the door; “and I think with your help I shall be able to save my reputation.” CHAPTER XI. OF A SERIOUS COMMUNICATION. The prisoners who had been taken by the garrison had been for the most part confined in Newgate, but several gentlemen of rank had been permitted on giving their parole to dwell at large with private persons in the city. Among the latter was the Vicomte de Laprade. No sooner had Lady Hester Rawdon learned that her nephew was a prisoner than she insisted on his being brought to her house, and De Laprade willingly exchanged the confinement of his prison for the society of his cousin and the comparative freedom of her house. With his ready power to adapt himself to his circumstances he was soon at home, and his gay songs and cheerful wit enlivened for a time the gloom that was gradually settling down on the household in common with the rest of the city. But even the lively humour of the Vicomte was unable to withstand the horror and distress that surrounded them on every side and deepened day by day. The pressure of famine, as silent as it was terrible, began to make itself sorely felt. Pestilence that had been lurking in the byways of the city, spread on every side, and all through the month of June the shells were crashing through the roofs and ploughing up the streets. The hope of relief that had burned steadily for a while was now growing fainter and fainter. Early in June three ships had come up the river as far as Culmore, but finding the fort in possession of the enemy, had not attempted to dispute the passage. And again, a little later, the garrison had seen from the Cathedral tower the friendly fleet far down the Lough, and had watched them with anxious hearts, till they saw them riding of Three Trees in the western glow of that summer evening. In the morning the sails were gone, and now the enemy had thrown a boom across the river which shut out the passage to the sea. But still the men of the garrison stood by the walls and manned the great guns and handled their muskets with a cheerful courage. There were traitors, no doubt, who deserted to the enemy, and traitors who murmured and plotted secretly; but for the most part the citizens stood loyally by their leaders.