re
seasoned soldiers, hard and tough as iron, and without the least sense
of fear. Fighting was their trade, and they were masters of the craft.

As for myself, I could ride, and handle a sword, but this was my first
experience of a fight. I forgot the lessons in sword-play my father
had taught me, and struck out wildly, hitting right and left. I saw
D'Arcy's smiling face go down before me, felt Lautrec's sword pierce my
arm, and then came directly in front of Raoul.

As it chanced I was able to stay my hand at the very moment of
striking, but Raoul, poor lad, had not the same good fortune, and, just
as I lowered my weapon, his sword passed through my body. I am an old
man now, but I can still see the look of horror on his face, and hear
his cry of anguish. I remember smiling at him feebly and trying to
speak; then the fading daylight vanished, and with the darkness came
unconsciousness.

The next thing I can remember was Raoul asking some one if I should
die. Not being able to see him I stretched out my hand, and he,
bending over me, spoke my name softly.

"My men?" I whispered faintly.

"They are all living! Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. Raoul."

"If you do not go away, M. Beauchamp, you will kill my patient."

This was said in a voice soft and sweet as a child's, and I concluded
the speaker was a doctor. Raoul made some reply, but I could not
understand his words, and gradually my sense of hearing failed
altogether. For weeks I lay hovering between life and death, and when
at length I was able to look about me and realise something of what
went on, I was painfully weak and helpless.

Thrice every day there came into my room a tall, grave, white-bearded
man, who sometimes smiled kindly, but more often shook his head in a
sorrowful manner. And always, throughout the day and night, there sat
by my bedside a grief-stricken youth who tended me with the utmost
care. This youth, so sad and melancholy, was Raoul, but Raoul so
altered as to be scarcely recognisable. For hours he would sit
motionless as a statue, then, rising gently, he would give me the
medicine according to the doctor's orders, or smooth the tumbled pillow
which I was helpless to re-arrange for myself.

One morning, waking after a long sleep, I felt considerably better. My
comrade sat as usual beside the bed, but, wearied by the night watch,
his head had sunk on his breast, and he had fallen asleep. I half
turned to look at him mo