"Wouldst thou then give up at once, and strive no more? It cannot be."
"Never!" answered his companion, passionately. "Ere English feet shall cross these courts and English colors wave above these towers, the blood of the defenders must flow beneath their steps. They gain not a yard of earth save at the bright sword's point; not a rood of grass unstained by Scottish blood. Give up! not till my arm can wield no sword, my voice no more shout 'Forward for the Bruce!'"
"Then we will hope on, dream on, Nigel, and despair not," replied Seaton, in the same earnest tone. "We know not yet what may be, and, improbable as it seems now, succors may yet arrive. How long doth last the truce?"
"For eighteen hours, two of which have passed."
"Didst thou demand it?"
"No," replied Nigel. "It was proffered by the earl, as needed for a strict examination of the traitor Evan Roy, and accepted in the spirit with which it was offered."
"Thou didst well; and the foul traitor—where hast thou lodged him?"
"In the western turret, strongly guarded. I would not seek thy counsel until I had examined and knew the truth."
"And thine own judgment?"
"Was as thine. It is an ill necessity, yet it must be."