The big log gate was barred, the fire trampled out, and we waited in that thunderous darkness.

A long draught of cold water had revived me, and I could think clearly of Elspeth.

Her bower was in the safest part of the stockade, but she would not stay there, I could see terror in her eyes, but she gave no sign of it.

She made ready our supper of cold meat as if she had no other thought in the world.
Waiting on an attack is a hard trial for mortal nerves.

I am not ashamed to confess that in those minutes my courage was little to boast of.