He heard their footsteps descending the stone steps of the old tower (erst trod by the feet of many a turbaned Moor and steel-clad crusader), and then dying away in distance; but soothed and relieved in mind by a visit performed at such risk by his friends, and hoping much--he knew not what--from the notes made by Rowland Askerne, Quentin lay down on his pallet and strove to sleep, amid a silence broken only by the beating of his own heart, and the rush of the Tormes in its deep and rocky bed. "_They_ at least believe in me, and will not desert me!" he repeated to himself again and again. But, the brave boyish spirit and hope--the enthusiastic desire to achieve something great and good, no matter what, by land or sea, by flood or field--a glorious deed that present men should vaunt, and those of future times would speak of--where were that hope and spirit _now_? CHAPTER X. THE COURT-MARTIAL. "Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, These three alone lead life to sovereign power. Yet not for power, (power of herself Would come uncall'd for,) but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear; And because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence." TENNYSON. The court-martial assembled in a large and magnificent apartment of the Alva palace or castle, which stands in the centre of the town. It is in a good state of preservation, and the chamber usually occupied by the terrible duke, with all its ancient furniture, still remains there in its original state. On the walls of the great apartment selected for the court hung the armour of the successive princes of the house of Toledo from a very remote period--indeed, from the mail shirts that had resisted the Moorish scimitars down to the steel caps and jacks of the war of the Spanish succession; and many of the breast-plates were emblazoned with the armorial bearings and trophies of those warlike dukes who boast of their descent from the Paleologi Emperors of the East, and who were first ennobled as peers of Leon by Alphonso VI., or the Brave, of Castile, in 1085. As Quentin approached the great embattled door of this stately mansion, many soldiers of the regiment were crowding about it, and all these muttered their good wishes; many a hard but honest hand was held out to him, and many a forage-cap waved in silence, evincing emotions of good-will that stirred his heart with gratitude, and gave him new courage as he entered the court, attended by the provost-marshal. He certainly looked wan and ill; traces yet remained of his recent illness at the Villa de Maciera; to these were added anxiety, lack of proper food and sleep, with the toil and exposure incident to the campaign, all of which served to give him interest in the eyes of many, for the court was crowded by spectators, chiefly officers of nearly every regiment in the division, and a few Spanish citizens and priests of Alva.