is this? Speak to me. What does it all mean? cried
Philip.

'How can I tell?' said Berenger, showing his face for a moment, covered
with tears; 'only that my only friend is dead, and some villainous trick
has seized me, just--just as I might have found her. And I've been
the death of my poor groom, and got you into the power of these vile
dastards! Oh, would that I had come alone! Would that they had had the
sense to aim direct!

'Brother, brother, anything but this!' cried Philip. 'The rogues are not
worth it. Sir Francis will have us out in no time, or know the reason
why. I'd scorn to let them wring a tear from me.

'I hope they never may, dear Phil, nor anything worse.

'Now,' continued Philip, 'the way will be to go down to supper, since
they will have it so, and sit and eat at one's ease as if one cared for
them no more than cat and dog. Hark! there's the steward speaking to
Guibert. Come, Berry, wash your face and come.

'I--my head aches far too much, were there nothing else.

'What! it is nothing but the sun,' said Philip. 'Put a bold face on it,
man, and show them how little you heed.

'How LITTLE I heed!' bitterly repeated Berenger, turning his face away,
utterly unnerved between disappointment, fatigue, and pain; and Philip
at that moment had little mercy. Dismayed and vaguely terrified, yet too
resolute in national pride to betray his own feelings, he gave vent to
his vexation by impatience with a temperament more visibly sensitive
than his own: 'I never thought you so mere a Frenchman,' he said
contemptuously. 'If you weep and wail so like a sick wench, they will
soon have their will of you! I'd have let them kill me before they
searched me.

''Tis bad enough without this from you, Phil,' said Berenger, faintly,
for he was far too much spent for resentment or self-defence, and had
only kept up before the Chevalier by dint of strong effort. Philip was
somewhat aghast, both at the involuntary gesture of pain, and at finding
there was not even spirit to be angry with him: but his very dismay
served at the moment only to feed his displeasure; and he tramped off
in his heavy boots, which he chose to wear as a proof of disdain for his
companions. He explained that M. de Ribaumont was too much fatigued to
come to supper, and he was accordingly marched along the corridor, with
the steward before him bearing a lighted torch, and two gendarmes with
halberds behind him. And in his walk he had ample time for,