He rose up, holding out both his hands. “I met with a stout resistance, but nevertheless I have taken possession and wasted your commissariat,” he said, with a smile on his brown face. “You have a stout guard below stairs, but an old soldier does not fear the rattle of an empty musket.” “You are a thousand times welcome,” Gervase said, pushing him back into his seat, “and all the more as you seem to have fared but ill. We thought you had fallen into the enemy´s hands.” “I have been fighting with the wild beasts at Ephesus these two days past, and since we parted I have not tasted food till now. Have you brought the lady safely back?” “Ay, safe and sound.” “I´m glad of that, I´m glad of that. The thought of her hath weighed on my mind like lead. I could not but think she fancied I was playing the poltroon, and deserting my company when it came to the push of sword. But I could see no other way to help you after I shot yon swaggering ruffian through the head, and that in lawful self-defence. They were a score too many to deal with openly. Right glad am I you brought her through.” “Having looked through a hempen collar by the way,” said Gervase. “Let me tell you, Captain Macpherson, it needs cool courage to look the hangman in the face.” “And the rogues would have hanged you? I had not thought of that. But in truth I did not think of you at all. ´Twas the brave wench that I feared for; she that stood up before me in the oak wood, and with the look in her eyes that I never saw in a woman before--told me she trusted me. ´Twas like the handshake of a comrade before the battle. She hath a fearless spirit, and a heavy burden, I doubt not, with the doited old man on her hands, and I know not what trouble besides.” “That burden has been taken away,” Gervase said soberly, “We buried him the next morning, hard by where you left him.” “You do not mean they murdered him?” “No, not that; the loss of the treasure broke his heart, and hardly had you left him when he was dead.” Macpherson rose to his feet, his two hands resting on the back of his chair, and a look on his face as of one stricken by a great fear. “You are jesting with me.” “In truth, it is no matter for jest. Hardly had you gone than he gave a great cry and fell dead. The loss of what he loved better than life was more than he could bear, and he never moved again after he fell. Then the troopers came up, and had it not been that a gallant gentleman proved my friend, I should not have been here to tell you the tale.”