I awoke again in a dim dull dawn. Tired of these bouts of wakefulness I
got off the bed--for I was lying full-dressed even to my boots--and crept
softly to the window. I would keep watch and ward for Margaret, as a true
knight oweth to do. Then, if my obscure misgivings were unfounded, I
should at any rate have done my duty.
There had been a slight fall of snow, enough to cover the ground and
bring everything up into sharp relief. My window was a dormant-window, its
sill being about four feet from the eaves. I flung it open, careful not to
make a sound, pushed out head and shoulders, and took stock.
I dipped my fingers in the snow and found there was near an inch of it.
The "Red Bull" stood back from the road, and on each side of the inn
proper, outhouses and stables jutted out to the wayside. Drawn up under a
hovel on the left was a huge wagon piled with sacks, probably of barley
bound for Leek, a town renowned for its ale.
Without was silence and stillness, as of the grave, and it was nipping
cold, but my mind was happily busy, having so many delicious moments to
live over again.
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