"Stand up, John, and let us know if you are in your senses," said Gaston, angrily; "we have no time for fooleries. Let us know whether you have been knave, traitor, or fool; for one or other you must have been, to be standing here sound and safe." "You are right, Sir Squire," said Ingram, covering his face with his hands. "I would I were ten feet underground ere I had seen this day;" and he groaned aloud. "You have been deceived by their arts," said Eustace. "That I can well believe; but that you should be a traitor, never, my trusty John!" "Blessings on you for the word, Sir Eustace!" cried the yeoman, while tears fell down his rough cheeks. "Oh! all the wine in the world may be burnt to the very dregs ere I again let a drop cross my lips! but it was drugged, Sir Eustace, it was drugged--that will I aver to my dying day." "I believe it," said Eustace; "but we must not wait to hear your tale, John. You must take horse and ride with all speed to Bordeaux. One of you go and prepare a horse--" "Take Brigliador!" said Gaston; "he is the swiftest. Poor fellow! well that I spared him from our journey amid the mountain passes." "Then," proceeded Eustace, "bear the news of our case--that we have been betrayed--that Clisson will be on us immediately--that we will do all that man can do to hold out till succour can come, which I pray the Prince to send us." "Take care to whom he addresses himself," said Gaston. "To some our strait will be welcome news." "True," said Eustace. "Do thy best to see Sir John Chandos, or, if he be not at the court, prefer thy suit to the Prince himself--to any save the Earl of Pembroke. Or if thou couldst see little Arthur, it might be best of all. Dost understand my orders, John?" "Ay, Sir," said Ingram, shaking his great head, while the tears still flowed down his cheeks; "but to see you in this case!" "Think not of that, kind John," said Eustace; "death must come sooner or later, and a sword-cut is the end for a Knight." "You will not, shall not die, Sir Eustace!" cried Gaston. "Your wounds--" "I know not, Gaston; but the point is now, not of saving my life, but the Castle. Speed, speed, Ingram! Tell the Prince, if this Castle be taken, it opens the way to Bordeaux itself. Tell him how many brave men it contains, and say to him that I pray him not to deem that Eustace Lynwood hath disgraced his knighthood. Tell Arthur, too, to bear me sometimes in mind, and never forget the line he comes of. Fare thee well, good John!" "Let me but hear that I have your forgiveness, Sir Knight." "You have it, as freely as I hope for mercy. One thing more: should you see Leonard Ashton, let him know that I bear him no ill-will, and pray him not to leave the fair fame of his old comrade foully stained. Farewell: here is my hand--do not take it as scorn that it is my left--my right I cannot move--" The yeoman still stood in a sort of trance, gazing at him, as if unable to tear himself away.