The old man, Eustace de Senville, was silent till all had spoken; then, like Nestor of old, wise, and qualified by age to act as counsellor, he let fall his weighty words, which fell from his lips like the flakes of thick falling snow without.
"My lot hath been different," he said; "it fell to me to explore the quarter of the forest next to that assigned to the son of our host. We had already completed our task, and were on the point of returning homewards, for the sun was already low, when we heard the blast of a horn appealing to us for aid."
"From what quarter?" said the baron.
"That assigned to your son. We at once hastened to render help, and, after some fruitless search, heard the horn once more, and, guided by its sound, reached a spot where the groans of one in pain fell upon our ear, amidst the increasing darkness of the forest. We found the victim, his horn by his side, dead--pierced through by an arrow. The life had been ebbing when, hearing our signals, he had striven with his last breath to summon us that he might not die alone, and, indeed, his face looked as one who had died in awful fear with some gruesome sight before his eyes."
"To what party did he belong?"
"He wore the badge of Aescendune, he was short of stature, one shoulder somewhat higher than the other, and he wore this belt, which we have brought home in hopes he may be known thereby."
The baron took the belt, with hands which shook in spite of all his efforts at composure, and knew it to belong to one Torquelle, who had been in attendance on his son.
"Etienne hath found foes," he said in a voice which he strove to render calm.
"A light snow had begun to fall," continued the speaker, "the sun was already very low, and it was dusk in the woods, when our dogs began to growl. Dimly in the shade we saw three or four beings creeping forward, as if studying the ground carefully. We watched them with fear, doubting if they were of this world."
"Why?"