Then I saw that he bore him to the mouth of the arbour into which Gottlieb had turned to rest. And now as he came up to it, Gottlieb was just coming forth again to renew his journey. Right glad was Gottlieb of the company of such a comrade; so they joined their hands together, and walked along the road speaking to one another of the kindness of the King, and telling one to the other all that had befallen them hitherto. A pleasant thing it was to see them marching along that road, their good staffs in their hands, their lamps burning brightly, and their books sending forth streams of light, to shew them the way that they should go. But now I saw they got into a part of the road which was rough and full of stones; and unless they kept the lights they bore with them ever turned towards the road, and looked, too, most carefully to their footing, they were in constant danger of falling. The air, also, seemed to have some power here of sending them to sleep, for I saw that Gottlieb's steps were not as steady and active as they had been; and he looked often from this side to that, to see if there were any other resting-place provided for him; but none could he see: and then methought, as he walked on, his eyes would close as he bent them down over his book, like one falling asleep from exceeding weariness. Gehulfe saw the danger of his friend; and though he felt the air heavy, his fear for Gottlieb kept him wide awake. "What are those words," he asked his drowsy friend, "which burn so brightly in your book?" When he heard the voice, Gottlieb roused himself, and read; and it was written, "Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation; the spirit truly is willing, but the flesh is weak." Then, for a little while, Gottlieb was warned, and he walked like one awake; but, after a time, such power had this sleepy air, he was again almost as drowsy as ever, and his eyes were nearly closed. Then, before Gehulfe could give him a second warning, he placed his foot in a hole, which he would have easily passed by, if he had been watching; and, falling suddenly down, he would have rolled quite out of the road (for it was raised here with a steep bank on either side), if Gehulfe had not been nigh to catch him again by the hand, and keep him in the path. He was sorely bruised and shaken by the fall, and his lamp, too, was dusted and hurt; so that he could not, at first, press on the way as he wished to do. But now his drowsiness was gone; and, with many bitter tears, he lamented that he had given way to it before. One strange thing I noted, too: he had dropped his staff in his fall, and he could not rise till he had taken it again in his hand; but now, when he tried to take it, it pricked and hurt his hand, as if it had been rough and sharp with thorns. Then I looked at it, and saw that one of the stems which were twined together, and which bore the name of "discipline," was very rough and thorny; and this, which had turned