I will sleep then in my usual resting place." "And I will sleep among the bees.

Their humming close beside a man's ears generally brings him dreams that a king would envy." "Then good night, sir." "Good night." They parted at the little porch.

Gerzson wrapped his _bunda_ round his shoulders and went towards the bee-house, but the priest returned to his chamber, blew out the light, lay down fully dressed on his bed, took up his rosary and fell a-praying like one who does not expect to see the dawn of another day.
He knew his man; he knew what was coming.
Squire Gerzson, on the other hand, troubled himself not a jot about possible consequences.

With the nonchalance of a true sportsman, he lit his pipe and, lest he should set anything on fire, he made up his mind not to sleep a wink till he had smoked his pipe right out.
In order that slumber might not come upon him unawares, he resolved to fix his eyes on the castle windows--as the best preservative against dropping off.

He could see them quite plainly from the bee-house.
The illuminated windows were darkened one by one.