and the monk’s lodgings, the cloistered arcade running round all these.  The fourth side was skirted by the river, which was, however, concealed by an embankment, raised, no doubt, to supply the place of the wall, which had been unnecessary to the peaceful original inhabitants.  What attracted Berenger’s eyes was, however, a group in the cloister, consisting of a few drooping figures, some of men in steel caps, others of veiled, shrouded women, and strange, mingled feelings swept over him as he caught the notes of the psalm sung over the open grave—­

              ’Si qu’en paix et seurte bonne
               Coucherai et reposerai—­
               Car, Seigneur, ta bonte tout ordonne
               Et elle seule espoir donne
               Que seur et sain regnant serai.’

‘Listen, Philip,’ he said, with moistening eyes; then as they ended, ’It is the 4th Psalm:  “I lay me down in peace and take my rest.”  Eustacie and I used to sing it to my father.  It was well done in these mourners to sing it over him whom they are laying down to take his rest while the enemy are at the gates.  See, the poor wife still kneels while the rest disperse; how dejected and utterly desolate she looks.’

He was so intently watching her as not to perceive the entrance of a tall, grizzled old man in a steel cap, evidently the commander of the garrison.  There was the brief welcome of danger’s hour—­the briefer, because Captain Falconnet was extremely deaf, and, taking it for granted that the new-comers were gentlemen of the Duke’s, proceeded to appoint them their posts without further question.  Berenger had intended to pursue his journey to Quinet without delay, but the intelligence that the enemy were on the southern as well as the northern side of the river rendered this impossible; and besides, in defending this key of Guyenne against Narcisse, he was also defending Eustacie.

The state of affairs was soon made known to him.  The old monastery, covering with its walls an extensive space, formed a fortress quite strong enough to resist desultory attacks, and protect the long bridge, which was itself strongly walled on either side, and with a barbican at the further end.  In former assaults the attacks had always been on the north, the Catholic side, as it might be called; but now the enemy had crossed the river above the fort, and were investing the place on both sides.  Long foreseeing this, the old commandant had guarded the bank of the river with the earthwork, a long mound sloped irregularly on either hand, over which numerous little paths had since been worn by the women within, when on their way to the river with their washing; but he had been setting every one to work to destroy and fill up these, so that the rampart was smooth and slopping, perfectly easy indeed to cross, but high and broad enough to serve as an effectual protection against such artillery as the detached troops of the Guise party were likely