"Grandfather, thou shalt not die," interrupted the boy; "Baron, it was I; but must I die for it? we were so hungry."
"Oh my lord, crush not the young life in the springtime of youth. God has taken all my children in turn from me, He has deprived me of home and kin: but He is just. He has left this boy to comfort my old age: take not away the light of the old man's eyes. See I, who never asked favour of Norman or foreign lord before, bow my knees to thee; let the boy live, or if not, let both die together."
"One life is enough for one deer."
"Nay, then let me die."
"Who slew the deer?"
"I, my lord, and I must die, not my grandfather."
"It was for me, and I must die, as the primal cause of the deed," said the old man.
"By the teeth of St. Peter, I never saw two thralls contending for the honour of a rope before," said Milo.
"Nor I, but they have taken the right way to escape. Had they shown cowardice, I should have felt small pity, but courage and self-devotion ever find a soft place in my heart; besides, there is something about this boy which interests me more than I can account for. Old man, tell the truth, as thou hopest for the life of the boy. Is he really thy grandson?"
"He is the son of my daughter, now with the Saints."