the candle upon it. Then, with Elizabeth's help, she
dragged out a large, thick straw mattress, and the blankets and coverlet
of which Dorothy had spoken, and made up the bed in one of the
unoccupied corners. A further search revealed a bolster, but no pillows
were forthcoming. That did not matter, for they expected none.

"Now then, children, we'll get you into bed," said Rose.

"Will must say his prayers first," said Cissy anxiously.

"Of course. Now, Will, come and say thy prayers, like a good lad."

Will knelt down beside the bed, and did as he was told in a shrill,
sing-song voice. Odd prayers they were; but in those days nobody knew
any better, and most children were taught to say still queerer things.
First came the Lord's Prayer: so far all was right. Then Will repeated
the Ten Commandments and the Creed, which are not prayers at all, and
finished with this formula:--

"Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,
Bless the bed that I lie on:
Four corners to my bed,
Four angels at their head;
One to read, and one to write,
And one to guard my bed at night.

"And now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray that Christ my soul may keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray that Christ my soul may take;
Wake I at morn, or wake I never,
I give my soul to Christ for ever."

After this strange jumble of good things and nonsense, Will jumped into
bed, where the baby was already laid. It was Cissy's turn next. Ever
since it had been so summarily arranged by Mrs Wade that the children
were to stay the night at the King's Head, Cissy had been looking
preternaturally solemn. Now, when she was desired to say her prayers,
as a prelude to going to bed, Cissy's lip quivered, and her eyes filled
with tears.

"Why, little maid, what ails thee?" asked Rose.

"It's Father," said Cissy, in an unsteady voice. "I don't know however
Father will manage without me. He'll have to dress his own supper. I
only hope he'll leave the dish for me to wash when I get home. No body
never put Father and me asunder afore!"

"Little maid," answered Elizabeth, "Mistress Wade meant to save thee the
long walk home."

"Oh, I know she meant it kind," replied Cissy, "and I'm right thankful:
but, please, I'd rather be tired than Father be without me. We've never
been asunder afore--never!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

TRYING ON THE ARMOUR.

"Oh, thy father 'll do right well!" said Rose encouragingly. "I dare be
bound he tho