Chapter 5 - Page 2

speaking, he half led, half supported Eveline, who was at the
moment almost incapable of thought and action, to the castle-
chapel, where, sinking before the altar, she assumed the attitude
at least of devotion, though her thoughts, despite the pious words
which her tongue faltered out mechanically, were upon the field of
battle, beside the body of her slaughtered parent. The rest of the
mourners imitated their young lady in her devotional posture, and
in the absence of her thoughts. The consciousness that so many of
the garrison had been cut off in Raymond's incautious sally, added
to their sorrows the sense of personal insecurity, which was
exaggerated by the cruelties which were too often exercised by the
enemy, who, in the heat of victory, were accustomed to spare
neither sex nor age.

The monk, however, assumed among them the tone of authority which
his character warranted, rebuked their wailing and ineffectual
complaints, and having, as he thought, brought them to such a
state of mind as better became their condition, he left them to
their private devotions to indulge his own anxious curiosity by
inquiring into the defences of the castle. Upon the outward walls
he found Wilkin Flammock, who, having done the office of a good
and skilful captain in the mode of managing his artillery, and
beating back, as we have already seen, the advanced guard of the
enemy, was now with his own hand measuring out to his little
garrison no stinted allowance of wine.

"Have a care, good Wilkin," said the father, "that thou dost not
exceed in this matter. Wine is, thou knowest, like fire and water,
an excellent servant, but a very bad master."

"It will be long ere it overflow the deep and solid skulls of my
countrymen," said Wilkin Flammock. "Our Flemish courage is like
our Flanders horses--the one needs the spur, and the other must
have a taste of the winepot; but, credit me, father, they are of
an enduring generation, and will not shrink in the washing.--But
indeed, if I were to give the knaves a cup more than enough, it
were not altogether amiss, since they are like to have a platter
the less."

"How do you mean!" cried the monk, starting; "I trust in the
saints the provisions have been cared for?"

"Not so well as in your convent, good father," replied Wilkin,
with the same immoveable stolidity of countenance. "We had kept,
as you know, too jolly a Christmas to have a very fat Easter. Yon
Welsh hounds, who helped to eat up our victuals, are now like to
get into our hold for the lack of them."

"Thou talkest mere folly," answered the monk; "orders were last
evening given by our lord