"
"That is true enough," Roger said, in a tone of relief. "For my part, I
am not greatly alarmed at spirits. The good abbot used to threaten me
that I should be carried off by them, unless I mended my ways; but I
always slept soundly enough, and never saw aught to frighten me. They
used to say that the spirits of some of the dead monks used to walk in
the convent garden, but though my cell looked down upon it, and I have
often stood there by the hour, never did I see anything to frighten me.
"If the Welsh do come, what are we to do, master--fight them?"
"By no means, Roger. Our duty is to watch, and not to fight. You must
lift up your voice, and shout as loud as you can, and then we must run
to the gate. There we can make a fight, till the rest join us. But,
whatever you do, do not shout until I tell you. A false alarm would
raise the whole garrison; and, if naught came of it, would make us a
laughing stock."
While they were talking, both were keeping a close lookout on the
ground in front of them, and also to the right and left, for the
watches were two hundred yards apart, and they had to make sure that no
party of the enemy slipped unseen between them. Suddenly Roger plucked
Oswald's sleeve, and said in a whisper:
"Unless my eyes deceive me, master, I saw two dark figures flit from
that clump of bushes, some forty yards away, to those next to them.
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