nny!
George for England!" rose the deep-throated bay, and ever the gallant
counter-cry: "A Chargny! A Chargny! Saint Denis for France!" thundered
amid the clash and thudding of the battle.

Such was the vague whirling memory still lingering in Nigel's mind when
at last the mists cleared away from it and he found himself weak but
clear on the low couch in the corner turret. Beside him, crushing
lavender betwixt his rough fingers and strewing it over floor and
sheets, was Aylward the archer. His longbow leaned at the foot of the
bed, and his steel cap was balanced on the top of it, while he himself,
sitting in his shirt sleeves, fanned off the flies and scattered the
fragrant herbs over his helpless master.

"By my hilt!" he cried with a sudden shout, every tooth in his head
gleaming with joy, "I thank the Virgin and all the saints for this
blessed sight! I had not dared to go back to Tilford had I lost you.
Three weeks have you lain there and babbled like a babe, but now I see
in your eyes that you are your own man again."

"I have indeed had some small hurt," said Nigel feebly; "but it is shame
and sorrow that I should lie here if there is work for my hands. Whither
go you, archer?"

"To tell the good Sir John that you are mending."

"Nay, bide with me a little longer, Aylward. I can call to mind all that
has passed. There was a bickering of small boats, was there not, and I
chanced upon a most worthy person and exchanged handstrokes with him? He
was my prisoner, was he not?"

"He was, fair sir."

"And where is he now?"

"Below in the castle."

A smile stole over Nigel's pale face. "I know what I will do with him,"
said he.

"I pray you to rest, fair sir," said Aylward anxiously. "The King's own
leech saw you this morning, and he said that if the bandage was torn
from your head you would surely die."

"Nay, good archer, I will not move. But tell me what befell upon the
boat?"

"There is little to tell, fair sir. Had this Ferret not been his own
squire and taken so long a time to don his harness it is likely that
they would have had the better of us. He did not reach the battle till
his comrades were on their backs. Him we took to the Marie Rose, because
he was your man. The others were of no worth, so we threw them into the
sea."

"The quick and the dead?"

"Every man of them."

"It was an evil deed."

Aylward shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to save one boy," said he; "but
Cock Badding would not