rough soldiers had said among themselves, "'Tis a pity that he was not a
girl, and the Lady Agnes a boy. He is more fit for a priest than for a
baron in times like these, for assuredly he will never grow into a stout
man-at-arms like his father." That a soldier should have been killed in
such a fight was to be expected, but that a gentle boy like this should
have fallen seemed strange and unnatural, and all sorrowed for him as well
as for their lord and lady, and the men forgot for a time the smart of
their wounds in their regret at his untimely death.

Sir Eustace went about his work quietly and earnestly, bound up the
soldiers' wounds, and saw as far as might be to their comfort. Their
number was not large, as it was only in the fight on the wall that aught
save their heads had been exposed, and those struck by cross-bow bolts had
for the most part fallen as they stood. The eight men brought in had
without exception received wounds from the swords of the French knights,
and though some of the gashes were broad and deep, none of them were
likely to prove fatal. Just as the knight had finished, Guy entered. He
had heard the news, which had spread like wildfire through the castle. The
lad's eyes were red, for he had been greatly attached to Henry, whose
constant companion he had been whenever the family had been at their
English home.

"It is a strange fate, lad," Sir Eustace said, laying his hand upon Guy's
shoulder. "You who have exposed yourself freely--for I marked you in the
fight--have come through scatheless, while Henry, whom I thought to keep
out of danger, has fallen. And what is your news?"

"There have been seventeen killed, my lord, besides Jean Bouvard, who was
struck in the face by one of the last crossbow bolts shot before they drew
off."