ned in
extricating him from the fallen animal was dangerous in the extreme; the
greater part of his men were at some distance, for the king had ordered
them, as soon as the unfrequented hollows of the wood were reached, to
disperse, the better to elude their pursuers. Douglas, Alexander Bruce,
and Fitz-Alan had galloped on, unconscious of the accident, and Nigel
and Alan were alone near him. A minute sufficed for the latter to spring
from his horse and aid the king to mount, and both entreated, conjured
him to follow their companions, and leave them to cover his retreat. A
while he refused, declaring he would abide with them: he would not so
cowardly desert them.

"Leave you to death!" he cried; "my friends, my children; no, no! Urge
me no more. If I may not save my country, I may _die_ for her."

"Thou shalt not, so help me heaven!" answered Nigel, impetuously. "King,
friend, brother, there is yet time. Hence, I do beseech thee, hence.
Nay, an thou wilt not, I will e'en forget thou art my king, and force
thee from this spot."

He snatched the reins of his brother's horse, and urging it with his own
to their fullest speed, took the most unfrequented path, and dashing
over every obstacle, through brake and briar, and over hedge and ditch,
placed him in comparative safety.

And was Alan deserted? Did his brother in arms, in his anxiety to save
the precious person of his royal brother, forget the tie that bound
them, and leave him to die alone? A sickening sense of inability, of
utter exhaustion, crept over the boy's sinking frame, inability even to
drag his limbs towards the wood and conceal himself from his foes.
Mechanically he at first stood grasping the now-tattered colors, as if
his hand were nailed unto the staff, his foot rooted to the ground.
There were many mingled cries, sending their shrill echoes on the night
breeze; there were chargers scouring the plain; bodies of men passing
and repassing within twenty yards of the spot where he stood, yet half
hidden by the deep shadow of a large tree, for some minutes he was
unobserved. An armed knight, with about twenty followers, were rushing
by; they stopped, they recognized the banner; they saw the bowed and
drooping figure who supported it, they dashed towards him. With a strong
effort Alan roused himself from that lethargy of faintness. Nearer and
nearer they came.

"Yield, or you die!" were the words borne to his ear, shrill, loud,
fraught with death, and his