Commands to the troops without were forwarded by trusty esquires; the wounded conveyed to the camp, and their places supplied by fresh forces, who, with the joyous sound of trumpet and drum, marched over by torchlight into the ballium, so long the coveted object of their attack.
Sir Nigel meanwhile had desired his exhausted men to lie down in their arms, ready to start up at the faintest appearance of renewed hostility, and utterly worn out, they most willingly obeyed.

But the young knight himself neither shared nor sought for that repose; he stood against a buttress on the walls, leaning on a tall spear, and gazing at once upon his wearied followers, and keeping a strict watch on the movements of his foes.

A tall form, clothed in complete armor, suddenly stood beside him; he started.
"Seaton!" he said; "thou here, and in armor ?" "Aye," answered the knight, his voice from very weakness sounding hollow in his helmet.

"Aye, to make one last stand, and, if it may be, die as I have lived for Scotland.

I have strength to strike one last blow, for last it will be--all is lost!" A low groan broke from Nigel's lips, but he made no further answer than the utterance of one word--"Agnes!" "Is safe, I trust," rejoined the knight.