 Warm yourself here by the fire. It's a fearful night, Sir Davok. It's in my mind that the spectre bridegroom may be abroad again. Watching won't keep him away. Nor guards either, for that matter. Did Lady Mary tell you that one of my men saw the black figure climbing down the vines beneath Margaret's window? Aye, and that he vanished before his very eyes. It's common talk throughout the castle. They think of nothing else, Wallace.