"She held out her hand to Roger when she saw him. "His face spoke evil-tidings only too plainly. "'There has been a battle,' she said. "'At Naseby, Lady Lucy,' he replied. "'Was the victory for the king or not?' she asked; unable to utter the question uppermost on her heart and mine. "'There was hard fighting on both sides' he replied. 'The king and Prince Rupert have gone westward towards Wales.' "I could hear that his voice trembled. "'Then the king has lost,' she said. 'But it was not to tell us this you came. Who is hurt?' "He hesitated an instant. "'It is Harry!' she exclaimed. 'You have come to summon us to him. Is the wound severe? Is there hope? Can we go to him at once?' "There was a pause, and a dreadful irresponsive silence between each of her questions. He answered only the last,-- "'He will be brought to you, Lady Lucy. They are bringing him now.' "At once the whole depth of her sorrow opened beneath her. Not an instant too soon. For the words had scarcely left Roger's lips when the heavy regular tramp of men bearing a burden echoed through the silence of the morning outside, and paused at the porch. "My Mother took my hand, and led me forward. "'He must not come home unwelcomed!' she said. "For an instant I feared she had not yet grasped Roger's meaning. For this awful burden they were bearing was _not Harry_, I knew. No welcomes would ever greet him more. But I had not fathomed her sorrow nor her strength. "She met the bearers at the door. They stood with uncovered heads, having laid down what they bore on the stone seat of the porch. They were mostly old servants of the family. "'My friends, I thank you,' she said. 'You have done all you could. But not there. On the place of honour. He was worthy.' "And she motioned them to the dais at the head of the Hall, where the heads of our house are wont to receive the homage of their retainers. "Silently they bore him there, and laid their sacred burden gently down. She thanked them again for their good service. And then as silently they withdrew. I saw many a rough hand lifted to brush away the tears. But she did not weep. She stood motionless, with clasped hands, beside the bier, and murmured to herself again and again, in a low voice,-- "'He was worthy.' "Then, turning with her own sweet, never-forgotten courtesy to Roger, she held out her hand to him again, and said,-- "'You did kindly to come and tell us. He always honoured you.' "He held her hand, and said rapidly, as if uncertain of the firmness of his own voice,-- "'I was near him at the last, and he made me promise to see you, or I could not have dared to come.' "She looked up with trembling, parted lips, listening for more.