As Gerald turned once more, Go-to-bed Godlamb was nodding his head over his book, as if in very enthusiastic approval of its contents, but unfortunately with so much energy—that he jerked it up again into an upright posture—and immediately began staring straight before him with great vehemence.
Gerald bit his lips with vexation, and continued his walk. His eyes were seemingly employed upon the page before him—
"A boat will be brought without noise under the walls at twelve this night," continued the anxious son, repassing his father, where he sat. "You must descend from your window by your bed-clothes."
Gerald resumed his walk. Gideon was winking and blinking with much energy—
"The only difficulty is to elude the vigilance of the sentinel who shall have the midnight watch"—muttered Gerald, as he again came back past the prisoner.
The old man raised his head, and looked at him anxiously.
Gideon was again nodding, but with a lesser degree of enthusiasm, as Gerald turned himself that way. The young man quickened his step, and was soon once more by his father's side—
"Every means that lie in my power shall be employed to favour your escape," whispered Gerald, with much emotion.
The prisoner gave him an enquiring glance, as if to ask his meaning—Gerald looked round—Godlamb was now snoring, after the fashion of a well-known farm-yard animal—not the one whose name he bore.
"God grant," continued the young man in much agitation, "that the lot fall to me to be the sentry on that watch—then all were well!"