Lord Ipsden looked at the speaker, her eyes were glittering, and her
cheek flushing.

"Good Heavens!" thought he; "she believes it!" So he began to take more
pains with his legend.

"But for the spearsman," continued he, "he had nothing but his body; he
gave it, it was his duty, and received the death leveled at his
sovereign."

"Hech! puir mon." And the glowing eyes began to glisten.

"The battle flowed another way, and God gave victory to the right; but
the king came back to look for him, for it was no common service."

"Deed no!"

Here Lord Ipsden began to turn his eye inward, and call up the scene. He
lowered his voice.

"They found him lying on his back, looking death in the face.

"The nobles, by the king's side, uncovered as soon as he was found, for
they were brave men, too. There was a moment's silence; eyes met eyes,
and said, this is a stout soldier's last battle.

"The king could not bid him live."

"Na! lad, King Deeth has ower strong a grrip."