The men departed one by one, and Helen remained alone with the old Commander de Liancourt, doing the best she could to tend and serve him. He suffered her to examine his wound, for the good old chivalrous custom which required that ladies should know something of leech-craft had not yet passed away; but it was one beyond her skill. The ball of an arquebuse or pistol, fired point blank at a short distance, had pierced his chest on the right side, a little more than a hand's breadth below the arm. Some blood had followed the wound, but not much; and all hemorrhage had ceased. He declared that the only pain he felt was, a burning sensation near the back. "That's where the ball lies, Helen," he said; "I wish it had gone through; for these things taking up their lodging in the body, often make the house too hot to hold the proper tenant. However, God's will be done. I never valued life a straw; and now, after having known it sixty years, I certainly do not prize it more for the acquaintance. 'Tis an idle and a bitter world, fair lady, as I fear you have found out by this time." Helen shrunk and turned pale, as the old man seemed to allude to her situation and his eye rested upon her face, she thought, with a look of meaning. He said no more, however; and in a moment after the farmer entered to offer his services to the wounded man, with whose rank he was now acquainted, and to give him farther tidings which had just arrived from the field--how the Swiss and French infantry had surrendered without resistance, and all the standards and cannon had fallen into the hands of the King. The Commander cut him short, however, asking after his nephew, which way they had taken him, how many the party numbered, and many another questions, all of which the man might have answered without betraying the fact that, to his own fears, was in some degree owing the capture of Rose d'Albret and the young Baron de Montigni. We put our armour where we are weak, however; and the first words of the farmer were in his own defence, betraying at once all that had taken place. As the wounded man heard him, and began to comprehend what had passed, his cheek turned fiery red, and raising himself partly in bed, he bent his eyes sternly upon him, and cursed him bitterly, calling him coward, and knave, and telling him he knew not what he had done. "Fool!" cried the Commander; "do you think they would have stayed to plunder your pitiful house with the sword of the King at their heels? Curses upon you, Sir! you have delivered a fair sweet lady to the hands of her persecutors, as gallant a gentleman as any in France to his knavish enemies. By the Lord that lives, I have a mind to make my men take thee and drown thee in the river, poltroon!"