"These are leaves of the herb of healing," she whispered. "I have set some on his hurt to stop the blood. Renew them soon, bruise them in his drink, and he will be whole within a day. I think it may prove that I cannot wait here, so you must tend him." "I have sworn to serve you and stay with you--" Simon began, but Argathona stopped him. "You serve me best in serving him," she remonstrated, "and when he is hale you must bring him to me safe and sound in the greenwood." Simon promised with his heart, and would have promised with his lips but there was no time to say more. The billows of sound in the palace had swelled to a mighty rush and trampling of feet, and in another instant the door was flung open, and many knights came into the room--Count Ernault, Sir Guy, Sir Jaufre, Fernand Ximenes, and others who had been tasting the duke's cheer. "Who calls for help?" Count Ernault asked, looking around him in amazement. The Duchess Esclaramonde was standing full height with her hands extended in appeal. "I call for help," she cried. "Where is the Duke of Athens?" Count Ernault sprang forward to where Rainouart lay with Argathona and Simon supporting him. "What ails the prince?" he asked, and as Simon growled back, "The she-devil from Thebes has stabbed him," Ernault turned to the knights who were hot upon his heels and bade them keep back and let the prince have air. The gentlemen of Thebes among the throng separated themselves from the others and ranged themselves behind their duchess, questioning her and whispering together. Fernand Ximenes was already by her side. "Fear nothing," he said, softly, "I am your friend," and then he stood apart, silent and watchful. Along the corridor came the thunder of heavy feet. "Here is the duke," cried Jaufre de Brabant, and even as he spoke Duke Baldwin staggered into the room. He had been eating hugely, he had been drinking deeply, he was flushed with meat and wine, and furious at the interruption which had taken him from table. He glared around him like a baited bull, seeing little at first, for his eyes swam with the drink he carried and the confusion of the shifting lights. "What is the matter?" he bellowed, his raging face turning from one to other of those about him. Then catching sight of his son upon the ground, and the duchess standing apart, and the blood-stained dagger upon the floor between them, he veered to her in a hot fury. "Woman, what have you done?" he vociferated. Esclaramonde fell on her knees and stretched out her hands to him, but her voice was full of menace, though her words were words of entreaty. "Justice, great duke," she shrilled, "justice on my false lord. Although he is your son, he is still your subject, and amenable to all the laws of chivalry and honor." The duke moved upon the kneeling woman, lifting his great hands as if to strike her, whereat there was murmur among the Thebans and many hands set to sword-hilts.