Again there was deathly silence. "Father! father! what is it?" called the girl. "I know not; I can see naught--ay, but I can! Why, my fair master, what mayest thou be doing here?" added the knight, addressing some one. Then he called out in a relieved tone,-- "Come here, Simon; ’tis Master Bowerman, and he hath swooned away." *CHAPTER XIX.* *OF THE PERPLEXITY OF THE LITTLE MAID.* "Bowerman!" said Magdalen, intensely astonished as well as relieved; "what could he have been doing here?" However, there was no longer any cause for anxiety, either on the score of her father’s safety or from the vague terrors of superstition. With considerable difficulty the knight and his servant carried the senseless esquire over the plank and into the cave. On examination, it was found that the young man had cut his head against some point of rock in his fall, and had received other injuries, none of which, however, seemed severe. "’Twas a marvellous chance," said the knight. "Ay, truly: but now he’s come, he’ll be of rare use to us, an he getteth over this," said the seaman. "Humph! he was of more use where he was," was the knight’s comment. Then, looking at his daughter and seeing she was listening eagerly, he added sharply,-- "Now, child, bestir thyself; get water and bandages, and give Master Bowerman a cup of wine." With evident reluctance the girl obeyed her father, sighing to herself,--"Ah, me! why must my father take so much concern for this Bowerman, who, I know full well, tried to kill Master Lisle?" It was not long before the wounded esquire opened his eyes and stared round him in amazement. "Marry, Master Bowerman, thou knowest us not. Recall thy wits, and bethink thee of what hath happened," said the knight. But Bowerman had not yet recovered the full use of his faculties. "Newenhall, thou dolt!" he muttered, "what art cowering here for? why art not a man for once? The horse will never hurt thee. There, ’tis done--ah, he won’t ride him for some time," and Bowerman chuckled mockingly. "I knew it! I knew it!" cried the girl; "the cowardly caitiff. He hath confessed he lamed Black Tom." "Silence, wench," said her father sternly. "Dost not see the lad raveth?" Gradually the young man recovered his senses, but it was some time before he could be made to understand what had happened. At last he recognised the rough seaman, and then he knew who the other man was. He would have risen to do him reverence, but the knight restrained him. "Nay, Master Bowerman, this is no time for idle courtesies; I know thy breeding. Take another draught of this, and turn thee to sleep; thou canst talk to-morrow morn, an thou art well enough." The air of authority with which this was said helped to pacify the injured man even more than the draught, and he soon sank into a deep sleep.