Tristan suddenly trod on his foot, as a sign of silence, as a step
descended the stairs, and Sir Eustace stood before them.

"You appear to be agreeably employed, gentlemen," said he, glancing
at the stoup of wine which was before them; "but my orders are as
precise as Norman William's. No lights in this Castle, save my own,
after eight o'clock. To your beds, gentlemen, and a good night to
you!" He was still fully armed, so that it was unsafe to attack
him. And he saw them up the spiral stairs that led from the hall,
and watched them enter the narrow dens that served them as sleeping
rooms, where many a curse was uttered on the watchfulness of the
wizard Knight. At the turn of midnight, Le Borgne Basque crept
forth, in some hope that there might be an opportunity of fulfilling
his designs, and earning the reward promised him both by Clarenham
and the French. But he had not descended far before a red gleam of
torchlight was seen on the dark stairs, and, ere he could retreat,
the black head and dark eyes of Gaston appeared, glancing with
mischievous amusement, as he said, in his gay voice, "You are on
the alert, my old comrade. You have not forgotten your former
habits when in command here. But Sir Eustace intrusts the care
of changing the guard to none but me; so I will not trouble you
to disturb yourself another night." And the baffled miscreant
retreated.

In this manner passed day after day, in a tacit yet perpetual war
between the Knight and the garrison. Not a step could be taken,
scarce a word spoken, without some instant reminder that either
Sir Eustace or Gaston was on the watch. On the borders of the
enemy's country, there was so much reason for vigilance, that the