"I have just said as much to myself," Prosper replied; "but I will do
my best to prevent him, I assure you."
"You are so courteous a defender, fair sir," said Spiridion, "I could
wish you a more worthy client."
Prosper inwardly agreed with him. Shortly afterwards Spiridion bowed
him to bed. For himself he carefully undressed and put on his night-
shirt; then, lying down, he was asleep in a moment. The storm was by
this time a gale, the noise of it continuous out doors and in. Prosper
judged it expedient to have his arms within reach; the more so as he
could not help fancying he had heard the sound of rowlocks on the
mere. He stripped himself therefore to his doublet and breeches,
heaped his armour by the bedside, slung his shield and sword over the
foot, and then lay down by his peaceful companion. He had not
forgotten either to look to the trimming and feeding of the lamp.
Sleep, however, was miles from him in such a pandemonium of noise. The
wind wailed and screamed, the windows volleyed, wainscots creaked,
doors rattled on their locks. Sometimes with a shock like a thunder-
clap the body of the storm hurled against the walls; the great house
seemed to shudder and groan; then there would be a lull as if the
spirits of riot had spent themselves. In one of these pauses Prosper
was pretty sure he heard a step on the stairs. Not at all surprised,
for it was just such a night as he would have chosen, he listened
painfully; but the noise drowned all. Came another moment of recoil,
he heard it again, nearer. He got out of bed, went to the door, opened
it silently, and listened. There were certainly movements in the
house, feet coming up the stairs; he thought to catch hoarse
whisperings, and once the clang of metal. There was no time to lose,
He shut, bolted, and locked the door; then turned to his armour. A
swift step undisguised in the corridor put all beyond question; there
was an attack preparing. He had no time to do any more than snatch up
shield and sword, before he saw the flame of a torch under the door
and heard the voices of men.
Prosper stood sword in hand, waiting.
"Spiridion," he said, "wake up!"
Spiridion moaned, stirred a little, and sank again. A high voice
called out-"Spiridion, thou thin traitor, open the door and deliver up him thou
harbourest."
The wind shrieked and mocked; then Spiridion woke up with a shiver.
"The hour is come before my God is ready. Now I must die unknowing,"
said he, and sat up in bed with his yellow hair all about his face.
"It is me they seek," said Prosper. "Now then if it will save thee I
will open and go out to them." He went straight to the door, put his
face against the key-hole, and cried out--"If I come out, will ye save
Spiridion alive?"