effort, he told me, and he did not attempt it. He only lay still,
committing himself to God Almighty.

He could not eat the meat, even had he wished it, but he drank a little
broth and ate some bread, and then slept again.

* * * * *

He did not know what time it was when he awoke and found one by his bed,
looking down on him, he thought, compassionately. It was growing towards
evening, for it way darker, or else his eyes were heavy and confused
with sickness, but he could not see very clearly the face of the man who
stood by him.

The man presently kneeled down by the bed, murmuring with pity as it
seemed, and Master Richard felt himself raised a little, and then laid
down again, and there was something soft at the nape of his neck over
the wooden pillow and against his torn shoulders. There was something,
too, laid across his body and legs, as if to keep him from chill.

He said nothing for a while; he did not know what to say, but he looked
steadily at the face that looked on him, and saw that it was that of a
young man, not five years older than himself, shaven clean like a clerk,
and the eyes of him seemed pitiful and loving.

"_Laudetur Jesus Christus!_" said Master Richard presently, as his
custom was when he awoke.

"_Amen_," said the man beside the bed.