ateau Norbelle was built
more to be defended than to be inhabited, and the rooms were rather so
much inclosed space than places intended for comfort. The walls were of
unhewn stone, and, as well as the roof, thickly tapestried with
cobwebs,--the narrow loophole which admitted light was unglazed,--and
there was nothing in the whole chamber that could be called furniture,
save the two rude pallets which served the Knight and Squire for beds,
and a chest which had been forced open and rifled by the mutineers.
They had carried off Eustace's beloved books, to burn them in the court
as instruments of sorcery, and a few garments it had likewise contained
lay scattered about the room. Gaston hastened to the side of his
beloved Knight, almost dreading, from his silence and stillness, to
find him expiring. But he was only faint and exhausted, and when
Gaston raised him, and began to examine his wounds, he looked up,
saying, "Thanks, thanks, kind Gaston! but waste not your time here.
The Castle! the Castle!"

"What care I for the Castle compared to your life!" said Gaston.

"For my honour and your own," said Eustace, fixing his eyes on his
Squire's face. "Gaston, I fear you," he added, stretching out his hand
and grasping that of d'Aubricour; "if you survive, you will forget the
duty you owe the King, for the purpose of avenging me upon Clarenham.
If ever you have loved me, Gaston, give me your solemn promise that
this shall not be."

"It was the purpose for which I should have lived," said Gaston.

"You resign it?" said Eustace, still retaining his hold of his hand.
"You touch not one of my wounds till you have given me your oath."

"I swear it, then," said Gaston, "since you will ever have your own
way, and I do it the rather that Messire Oliver de Clisson will
probably save me the pain of keeping the pledge."

"You have taken all measures for defence?"

"Yes. The men-at-arms, such as are left, may be trusted, and have all
taken an oath to stand by us, which I do not think they will readily
break. The rest either made off with the baggage-mules, or were slain
when we broke in to your rescue, or are shut up with Le Borgne Basque
in Montfort's tower. I have sent the men to their posts, put them
under Silverlock's orders, and told him to come to me for directions."

Eustace at last resigned himself into the Squire's hands. A broken
arm, a ghastly-looking cut on the head, and a deep thrust with a
poniard in the breas