And now
kiss me, sweet friend, and lay me back, for the mists close round
me and I am gone!"
With tender hands the Squire lowered his comrade's head, but even
as he did so there came a choking rush of blood, and the soul had
passed. So died a gallant cavalier of France, and Nigel as he
knelt in the ditch beside him prayed that his own end might be as
noble and as debonair.
XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD
Under cover of night the wounded men were lifted from the ditch
and carried back, whilst pickets of archers were advanced to the
very gate so that none should rebuild it. Nigel, sick at heart
over his own failure, the death of his prisoner and his fears for
Aylward, crept back into the camp, but his cup was not yet full,
for Knolles was waiting for him with a tongue which cut like a
whip-lash. Who was he, a raw squire, that he should lead an
attack without orders? See what his crazy knight errantry had
brought about. Twenty men had been destroyed by it and nothing
gained. Their blood was on his head. Chandos should hear of his
conduct. He should be sent back to England when the castle had
fallen.
Such were the bitter words of Knolles, the more bitter because
Nigel felt in his heart that he had indeed done wrong, and that
Chandos would have said the same though, perchance, in kinder
words. He listened in silent respect, as his duty was, and then
having saluted his leader he withdrew apart, threw himself down
amongst the bushes, and wept the hottest tears of his life,
sobbing bitterly with his face between his hands.
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