One vivid picture after another floated before his mind.

The lake behind him grew dim.

Before him were the camp fires of the French, the wooden wall, the dark line of the forest and hills, and the crest of Defiance looking solemnly down on them.

Although held firmly there, within lines which one could not pass, nobody seemed to take any notice of him.

He could rest or watch as he chose, and he had no choice but to watch.
He saw the French lie down on their arms, save for the numerous sentinels posted everywhere, and after a while, though most of the night was gone, the ring of axes and the fall of trees ceased.
There was a hum of voices but that too died in time, and long after midnight, with his back against a tree, he dozed a little while.
He was awakened by a premonition, a warning out of the dark, and opening his eyes he saw Garay slinking near.