go?"

"Erard," replied the old Christian, "your father would rather not have
fought, he has so much patience and in his heart; but then he also has
courage: he has been surnamed----"

"Grandpapa," interrupted the child, with agitation, and pointing with
his hand towards the plain, under the declivity of the hill, and in a
narrow passage between the rocks and woods, "do you see those three
horsemen?"

In fact, three armed warriors were hastening, at the utmost speed of
their horses, towards a thick coppice, which they entered, and
disappeared. The first seemed to be flying before the two others, who
appeared to be in furious pursuit.

Gottfried listened, but no sound was heard; and, a few moments
afterwards, he distinctly saw two of the warriors come out of the wood
and hasten towards the plain, repassing the defile.

"Alas!" said the old man, groaning, "they have killed him! They have
dipped their hands in the blood of their brother!"

"They have killed him! Do you say so, grandpapa? Whom have they killed?
Is it my father?"

"No, my son; the first warrior was not Arnold. But it was a man, and
those are men who have killed him! O Lord, when wilt thou teach them to
love one another? But let us go to him," added the old man.