e 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. He had striven hard, and yet everything had gone wrong with him.
He was bruised, burned and aching from head to foot. Yet so high is the
spirit above the body that all was nothing compared to the sorrow and
shame which racked his soul.

But a little thing changed the current of his thoughts and brought some
peace to his mind. He had slipped off his mail gauntlets, and as he
did so his fingers lighted upon the tiny bangle which Mary had fastened
there when they stood together upon St. Catharine's Hill on the
Guildford Road. He remembered the motto curiously worked in filigree of
gold. It ran: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est commande au
chevalier."

The words rang in his weary brain. He had done what seemed right, come
what might. It had gone awry, it is true; but all things human may do
that. If he had carried the castle, he felt that Knolles would have
forgiven and forgotten all else. If he had not carried it, it was no
fault of his. No man could have done more. If Mary could see she would
surely have approved. Dropping into sleep, he sa