on in search of the marshals of the camp,
and as soon as the open space for his tents had been assigned, he
returned to see them raised. Gaston, who had of late become more
silent, was lifted from his mule, and assisted into the tent, where he
was laid on his couch, and soon after, Eustace was relieved from his
anxiety on Leonard Ashton's account, by his appearance. He came
stumbling in without one word of apology, only declaring himself as
weary as a dog, and, throwing himself down on a deer-skin on his own
side of the tent, was fast asleep in another minute.

CHAPTER VI

Leonard Ashton was awakened the next morning by the light of the rising
sun streaming in where the curtain of the tent had been raised to admit
the fresh dewy morning air. The sunbeams fell on the hair and face of
Eustace as he leant over Gaston, who lay stretched on the couch, and
faintly spoke: "I tell you it is more. Such fever as this would not be
caused by this trifling cut. There is sickness abroad in the camp, and
why should it not be my turn as well as another man's. Take care of
yourself, Sir Eustace."

No sooner did Leonard understand the sense of these words, than he
sprang up, rushed out of the tent, and never rested till he thought
himself at a safe distance, when he shouted to Eustace to come to him.

"Has he got this fever on him?" exclaimed he, as Eustace approached.

"He is very ill at ease," replied Eustace, "but to my mind it is caused
by yesterday's fatigue and heat, added to the wine which he would
drink."

"It is the fever, I say," replied Ashton; "I am sure it is. Come away,
Eustace, or we shall all be infected."

"I cannot leave him," said Eustace.

"What? You do not mean to peril yourself by going near him?" said
Ashton.

"I think not that there is peril in so doing," answered Eustace; "and
even if there were, I could not leave him in sickness, after all his
kindness to me and patience with my inexperience."

"He is no brother nor cousin to us," said Leonard. "I see not why we
should endanger our lives for a stranger. I will not, for my own part;
and, as your old friend and comrade, I would entreat you not."

These were kinder words than Eustace had heard from Ashton since the
beginning of his jealousy, and he answered, as he thought they were
meant, in a friendly tone, "Thanks, Leonard, but I cannot look on
Gaston d'Aubricour as a stranger; and had I fewer causes for attachment
to him, I could n