discern my poor, dear son; he may very likely have gone with the main body of the troops; if they have not already slain, or taken him prisoner." "And Martin! the boy, of whom you spoke, who so valiantly saved my son's life?" inquired the Lord of Beauvais. "Martin;" cried the doctor aloud: "where then do you hide yourself? yes, that's true indeed, you are both indebted to the stripling. He wore, when he entered, a thick handkerchief round his head, it may have been from a blow that reached him; after he had rescued your son, he received a right deep cut in the head again from a sabre, so that a stream of blood gushed out. As if for a change, he wiped his nose and without ceremony bound a second turban over the first, though he turned ghastly pale from it.--Martin! Where then is the rascal!" But there was no one to answer his call. "Thus is it with foolish youth," said the doctor vexedly: "he has misunderstood me about taking back the horse, and in his simplicity returned immediately. Poor youth! I trust no fever may be added to it." "It would make me miserable," said the Counsellor, "if I should not be able to testify my thanks to the dear boy. If I were persuaded that he was suffering, ill, helpless, or dying, I should weep tears of blood." "It will not turn out so bad as that," muttered Vila chagrined: "Why should the oaf run off thus, as if----Aye! Aye! at least I would have bound up his wounds for him. But now, the devil will not catch him directly. Such Camisard webs are usually formed of very tough materials."