"No—nothing but the hooting of the owl," answered Rose, timorously.
"I heard a distant sound," said Eveline,—"I thought I heard it— hark, it comes again!—Look from the battlements, Rose, while I awaken the priest and thy father."
"Dearest lady," said Rose, "I dare not—what can this sound be that is heard by one only?—You are deceived by the rush of the river."
"I would not alarm the castle unnecessarily," said Eveline, pausing, "or even break your father's needful slumbers, by a fancy of mine—But hark—I hear it again—distinct amidst the intermitting sounds of the rushing water—a low tremulous sound, mingled with a tinkling like smiths or armourers at work upon their anvils."
Rose had by this time sprung up on the banquette, and flinging back her rich tresses of fair hair, had applied her hand behind her ear to collect the distant sound. "I hear it," she cried, "and it increases—Awake them, for Heaven's sake, and without a moment's delay!"
Eveline accordingly stirred the sleepers with the reversed end of the lance, and as they started to their feet in haste, she whispered in a hasty but cautious voice, "To arms—the Welsh are upon us!" "What—where?" said Wilkin Flammock,—"where be they?"
"Listen, and you will hear them arming," she replied.
"The noise is but in thine own fancy, lady," said the Fleming, whose organs were of the same heavy character with his form and his disposition. "I would I had not gone to sleep at all, since I was to be awakened so soon."
"Nay, but listen, good Flammock-the sound of armour comes from the north-east."
"The Welsh lie not in that quarter, lady," said Wilkin; "and besides, they wear no armour."