ndpapa, see! it is
already night."

"Come, my child," said Gottfried, "and fear not. Perhaps he is not yet
dead; and if God sends us to his assistance, will you not be happy?"

"But, grandpapa, the wood is so dark, that I don't see how we shall
find our way."

"Well, Erard, I will wait here. Run to the house, and return immediately
with Ethbert and Matthew. Tell them that I have sent for them, and let
them bring a torch and the long hand-barrow. Make haste!"

Erard was soon out of sight, and only a short time had elapsed before he
returned with the two domestics, who held each a flambeaux and brought
the litter.

The child trembled while they descended, over the rocks and through the
woods. It seemed to him that he was about to step in the blood or fall
over the body of the dead man. The flame of the torches, which wavered
in the evening breeze, now struck a projection of the rock, which seemed
to assume the form of a man, now penetrated behind the trunks of the
pines, which appeared like ranks of soldiers. The imagination of Erard
was excited: he scarcely breathed, and felt his heart sink when Ethbert,
who was walking before, exclaimed, "Here he is! He is dead!"

It was a chevalier and a nobleman; whom Gottfried immediately recognized
by the form of his casque and the golden scarf to which was suspended
the scabbard of his sword.

The visor of the casque was closed. Gottfried raised it, and saw the
pale and bloody countenance of a man, still young, whose features
expressed courage and valor.

He had fallen under his horse, in whose side was found the point of a
lance which had killed him; and the whole body of his steed had covered
and crushed one of his limbs. The right hand of the chevalier still
grasped the handle of a sword of which the blade was broken.

Gottfried and his servants looked on some moments. The light of the
torches shone on the rich armor of the chevalier and on the
gold-embroidered housing of his horse, and it seemed as if its
brilliancy must open his closed eyes and re-animate his motionless
limbs.

Erard kept close to his grandfather and a little behind him. He wept
gently, but not with fear--it was with grief and sorrow,--and he
repeated, in a low voice, "They have killed him! The wicked men!"

"Perhaps he still lives," said Gottfried, kneeling and placing his ear
to the chevalier's mouth. "Raise him! Loose him!" exclaimed he, rising
hastily. "He is not dead!"

"He is not dead! he