r intention was to seize him; that they called to him repeatedly,
and at last, in the wood, pierced his horse with a lance, that they
might be able to take him prisoner; but they declared that, in falling,
the horse had crushed his rider, who had been killed immediately by
striking his head against a rock. Such was their account. The Lord knows
whether it was so; but Theobald has perished. Poor widow! Sorrowful and
feeble orphans!

"My lord would then have defended him," said Ethbert, feelingly, "had
he been able?"

_Arnold, (with warmth.)_ I would have preserved his life at the peril of
my own.

_Ethbert_. The life of your enemy?

_Arnold_. Does Ethbert forget the word of his God? Or, does he not yet
know that "if we love those who love us," we act only like publicans and
men of the world?

_Ethbert_. Arnold, the Lion, will, therefore, bless the Lord, when he
learns that the Iron-Hearted was not killed, and that he was taken, a
living man, from the spot where he fell.

"Ethbert! is that the truth?" said Arnold, seizing the arm of his
servant.

"It was I, my lord, who held the torch which illuminated the dark
forest, and it was between the trunks of the oaks and pines that I saw
first a horse extended on the motionless body of a warrior."

_Arnold_. And this warrior----

_Ethbert_. Was Theobald! Yes, my lord, it was he who had just, as he
thought, struck your death-blow.

_Arnold_. And who directed your steps thither, at night?

_Ethbert_. God, himself. O, what a work of his wonderful love! Yes, God
himself guided your noble father and your son to the Stag Cliffs at the
moment when Theobald, flying before the two chevaliers, passed through
the defile of the wood; and your father summoned Matthew and myself to
descend there with him.

_Arnold, (with adoration.)_ My father! sent from God to the murderer of
his son? How wonderful are the ways of the Most High! But, Ethbert, did
you not say that he was dead?

_Ethbert_. We thought so. But your pious and benevolent father, my lord,
knelt, touched the supposed, corpse, and exclaimed, "He is not dead!"
and aided by our hands, disengaged him. He extended him on the mossy
ground, called for water, bathed and refreshed the pale countenance of
the chevalier; his life returned, and your father glorified God.

"Theobald is living!" said Arnold, lifting towards heaven his eyes
filled with tears. "O, who will make it known to his wife and children?"

_Ethbert_. You